I am Nyotalia!
by Manga60123
Summary: A series of short stories based on one-word prompts! Contains all Nyo!characters! Please request characters and prompts for me to use and I will write it! No OCs please! Rated T to be safe!
1. Chapter 1

**I am Nyotalia!**

**Chibitalia: Crush**

Chibitalia walked through the house of Miss. Austria, who had sent her on a wild goose chase for some chocolate torte, which wasn't in the kitchen and wasn't anywhere else in the house.

'PMS bitch,' she thought to herself while angrily rubbing her back, where a heel mark would forever be imprinted, 'the least she could do would be to get some cuter boots to step on me with.'

She passed by Holy Rome's door and stopped as an idea formed in her mind. A bright smile lit her face as she put her plan in action.

Chibitalia burst through the door, not worried about if Holy Rome was presentable yet. After all, they were both girls, right (even though Miss. Austria and Holy Rome always told her to be a gentleman around ladies)?

"Buon Giorno, Holy Rome!" The cheerful Italian smiled at her friend, who was in the middle of grabbing a blouse from her drawer. Said German let out a high-pitched scream and turned around, face beet-red as she clutched the blouse to her exposed chest.

"Italy!" she cried, "I'm changing! Get out!" Italy was frozen in place. Holy Roman Empire just looks so... So...

"You're so CUTE, Holy Rome!" Chibitalia squealed, hugging the blonde-haired girl tightly and spun her around in circles.

"Put me down! Put me down right NOW! Ah! Rape! Rape!" Holy Rome shrieked, hitting the brunette on the back with tiny fists.

Hungary burst into the room at this and immediately nose-bled, before grabbing a camera from his pants and snapping tons of pictures, shota-yuri dreams being fulfilled.

Soon, Miss. Austria was inside the room in her nightgown and slippers, pulling Holy Rome out of the hyper Italian's grasp.

"ITALY!" the older woman growled, "behave like a courteous gentleman! You cannot barge in here without her permission!" Austria put her foot on Italy's chest and pushed her to the floor.

The Italian squeaked in surprise at first and then looked to the side in embarrassment, face pink.

"Well," Austria asked, "did you learn your lesson?"

The Italian grew a deeper shade of red as she said, "I just saw your panties."

The Austrian shrieked, lifting the Italian from the floor and pushing both of the young children out of Holy Rome's bedroom, Holy Rome yelling that she still needed her clothing.

After throwing clothing to the young German, Austria sighed and sat on the end of the bed and put her face in her hands.

Hungary sat next to her and rubbed comforting circles into her back. Austria lifted her head and turned to look at the Hungarian.

"Can I see the pictures of their little crush?" She asked the man, who nodded. The Austrian lady took the camera and smiled softly at the crazy antics between the two younger children.

"By the way, Hungary," Austria began, "where do you always keep this?"

"In my pants," he replied.

"EW!" She dropped the camera like it was the plague. And 5 hours later, when she was still at the sink washing her hands, Chibitalia decided to just make the torte by scratch.

* * *

**World Meeting: Society**

"Welcome to the World Meeting, dudes and dudettes!" America shouted, "We're all here today to solve the world's problems! Today's topic is improving society, which is epic, because I have the coolest plan! We can get a super-heroine to use her powers to save society from the hands of evil!" The girl struck a pose at the end, bomber jacket flowing in an imaginary wind, and all chaos insued.

"Um... I agree with America-san," said the small girl in the light-pink kimono. The Swiss girl in military attire stood up quickly and pointed angrily at Japan.

"Don't just agree with everything she says!" Switzerland yelled. She then began to untie the blue ribbon in her hair. Her hand soon was smacked away from the bow by her younger brother, Liechtenstein.

"Big sister, don't," he lightly chastised, "I just put that in your hair." The Swiss turned to her brother in protest, but gave up once she saw how serious her brother was about it. Blushing lightly, she nodded and sat back down.

"Don't be stupid, America," England scoffed while sipping her cup of tea lightly, "that would never work."

A Frenchwoman sitting next to them laughed pompously, "Well, I disagree with both of you drab and dull-dressed women." The two countries turned and began arguing with her.

England pulled at her hair while America poked her cheek.

"You can't disagree with both of us, bloody git! I'm bleeding England..."

"What's your problem, Frenchie? You're always arguing with me when you should agree with the heroine..."

"Well, you're an idiot and Angleterre is ugly-"

"Bloody frog! Stop insulting me, French slut!" England growled, pouncing on France. The two began to scuffle on the floor, pulling hair and name-calling.

The Chinese woman wearing a cheongsam with sleeves that covered her hands (and then some) offered snacks to the "silly western nations" who promptly refused. Dejected, she sat back down.

A cheerful Spaniard smiled at the beautiful Russian sitting on top of a small, quivering Latvian girl.

"Should we break them up?" Spain asked her, tilting her head to the side. Russia shook her head, a wicked smile on her face.

"No, we should just wait until there is blood. Murdering each other should put their fighting to an end, да?"

Her younger brother, Belarus, held a knife to Latvia's neck, making him shake even more, "Are you comfortable, big sister?" He asked her lovingly. Obsessively lovingly, that is.

"Plus," Russia continued, ignoring his young brother, "I'd rather watch Lithuania quake in fear and come crawling back to me, Latvia following!"

Estonia pushed her glasses up and smirked, "Wow, picking on countries less than half your size, real tough."

The Russian smiled wider, "I really hate that girl!"

"Like, stop right there!" yelled the voice of Poland, who stood in front of Lithuania, "if you get any closer to Lithuania, I'll totally make Warsaw your capital!"

Greece was asleep in her chair, head back as she lightly snored.

A loud slam on the table echoed throughout the whole room. England and France froze, the latter holding onto the former by her blouse collar.

In unison, everyone breathed, "Germany..."

"EVERYONE SHUT UP! WE CANNOT SOLVE ANY PROBLEMS IF EVERYONE IS FIGHTING!" She yelled. After calming down, she spoke again, "Now, everyone who wants to speak will get 8 minute exactly, and must raise their hand, but not in any way to offend me or my past. Now," a hand from across the table was raised, "ok, I hereby recognize my friend, Italy!"

The auburn-haired girl smiled and then opened her eyes and reached forward.

"PASTAAAAA~!"

* * *

**World War 1: Salt**

"How did we get stuck on the same island AGAIN?"

The three members of the axis powers stood on the same exact island that they've gotten stuck on a million times before.

"Oh, don't worry, Germany-san! I brought some things we'd need in case we got stuck again!" Japan smiled lightly and reached into her small purse, pulling out a small box.

"Ve~! What's that, Japan?" asked Italy, who was looking over Japanese woman's shoulder. Japan held up one finger, signaling the two to wait for a second, before setting it on the ground and pulling a small tab from the side of it.

The box began to shake rapidly, and Germany and Italy backed up slowly at first. When it began to grow, the former two nations tripped over each other trying to hide behind Japan, who stood there with a wide grin on her face.

A minute later, there was a large house standing in front of them. Italy's eyes were wide open and she was speechless for once in her long life as a nation.

Germany, on the other hand, was not so quiet.

"MEIN GOTT! THIS IS WONDERFUL!" she cried, still half-shocked, and impressed as well. Japan bowed in thanks.

"It was nothing much," she downplayed it, "now, let me give you the tour." She walked into the house, Germany and Italy at her heels.

"And this is the kitchen." Japan concluded, turning back to face her two friends and allies. They stared at her with dropped jaws.

"There were 3 stories, Japan," Germany spoke after a moment of silence, dumbfounded. She nodded.

Snapping out of her stupor, Italy ran into the kitchen.

"Japan, do you have ingredients for pasta?" She asked the shorter girl, going to open up a pantry.

"Italy-chan, don't open that!" Japan yelled, running towards the Italian. She wasn't quick enough, though, and the door was opened.

"What?" Italy asked, before a large pile of cooking supplies fell on top of her.

"ITALY!" Germany cried in shock. A head popped out of the pile, revealing a shocked Italy.

"Italy-chan, are you ok?" Japan ran up to Italy, who looked at the things surrounding her.

"Um... Japan...?" Italy questioned, grabbing one of the things around her, "Is this pantry full of sale?"

The Japanese girl looked up with shifty eyes and nodded.

Germany grabbed the shaker and looked at the label before nodding, "Yes, this is definitely salz. How can you have this much salt?"

The Japanese girl blushed deeper and muttered, "I just think it tastes good is all..." She trailed off.

Germany looked at her with a look of disgust, "That's so unhealthy."

As they left the house, Italy turned to Japan.

"Hey Japan," she asked, "why did you need the house to be in that small of a box?"

The other girl turned from picking up the house-box and opened her purse, placing the box back in and pulling something out.

"I needed a place to put all of my salt shakers!" She smiled brightly. The German girl grabbed her sakura-tree purse and dumped it out, a waterfall of salt tumbling out.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

* * *

**America vs. Japan: Spoon**

"Dudette, I need a spoon here for my soup!" America yelled loudly, waving her hands around wildly as she kicked her feet from under the kotatsu.

Japan sighed from in the kitchen. 'America is so hyperactive, it's surprising that she has such high obesity rates.'

The Japanese girl entered the room balancing two bowls of noodles into her sitting room and carefully placed it on the table.

"It's called 'kake udon', and is a broth. Not soup," Japan corrected her as she stood back up, rolling her shoulders back. For someone who looked so young, she had really bad back problems.

"Sweet! Thanks brahski!" the American cheered before grabbing her chopsticks and attempting to eat with them, which failed miserably.

"Aw, screw this!" she cried, pulling out a fork from her jacket pocket, "Food time!" And she thus proceeded to shovel noodles into her mouth.

Japan knelt down onto the ground and clapped her hands together, "Itadakimasu," before eating slowly with her specially designed Sakura petal chopsticks.

"ACK!" At the loud noise, Japan jumped, chopsticks falling into the bowl with a small splash.

"America-chan! Are you ok?" Japan looked at the blonde who had fallen back dramatically, feet up like a dead dog.

America sat up while rubbing her head, which had hit the tatami mat hard when she fell backwards out of shock. 'Dumb floor sucker-punched me!'

"Girl," she began in a nervous tone, worrying the timid Japanese girl, "your... Your..."

"Yes?" Japan asked, scared to hear the answer.

"Your... SPOONS ARE SO HUGE!" The American tried to hide her head in her turtleneck, as if that would somehow help the situation.

'What? Didn't America like stuff bigger? Even... No, no, can't think about France-stuff!'

"Um," Japan spoke, red-faced from her thoughts, "don't you have spoons in your home?"

The American scoffed for about 5 minutes, then screeched, "Of COURSE I have spoons, but these are like SHOVELS! They're freaking GIANT! How do I even EAT with this?"

As the American kept rambling to herself about spoons, Japan hid a nearly invisible smirk behind her udon noodles.

'I guess not everything is bigger in America!'

* * *

**Sea-chan, desu-yo!: Story**

"Latvia, let me tell you the best story ever in the history of best stories!" a cheerful voice called out. The young girl in question stopped quivering to decipher the voice when it hit her.

"Seala-oof!" Literally.

Sealand had tackle-hugged the poor Baltic nation, who had no time to brace herself for it and began shaking in fear and tearing up.

"S-s-sealand, don't sc-scare me like t-t-that!" the Latvian girl cried. Panicked, Sealand got off of Latvia and pulled up up, brushing her red dress of nonexistent lint.

"Sorry, Latvi," she apologized, " I got carried away a bit. You ok, lass?" The young-looking nation nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Not wanting to ruin the mood, Latvia asked, "Yes I'm fine, now, what were you saying?"

The question immediately brought the mischievous glimmer back into Sealand's eyes as she smirked back.

'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,' Latvia thought to herself.

"Once upon a time there was a nation named Sealand- that's me, by the way- who was strong and brave and a way better nation than my jerk-sister, England! One day, the Mighty Sea-chan-"

"Sea-chan?" Latvia questioned the blonde.

Sealand twisted one of her pigtails in between her fingers, "Yeah, they use those words at the end of names in all of Miss. Japan's animes! And, since I'm the heroine of this story, I should use heroine-words!"

Latvia sighed, 'She hangs out with Miss. America too much.' "You hang out with Miss. America too much." Boy, was she blunt.

"Whatever!" Sealand shrugged off the blunt comment, completely unaffected by it, "anyways. One day, the mighty Sea-chan found out that the evil Dr. Hanatamago had captured Prince Latvia-"

"Why do I have to be the prince?" Latvia whined, calmer around the micro-nation than anyone else.

"Because I said so! Now shut up! As I was saying..." And then the two began to act out the scene, flying around the room and carrying Hanatamago above their heads.

The duo fell asleep on top of a fortress of pillows a half-hour later, holding hands with Hanatamago in between them. Both of their hair was down and flowing around them as they slept.

Finland and Sweden peeked into Sealand's room, the former with a look of endearment on her face and the latter expressionless except for the small curve of her lips in a small smile.

Finland grabbed a blanket from the closet and took a quick picture with her camera before draping the fabric over the sleeping bodies.

Returning to Sweden, the Finnish woman smiled softly, "They're so cute, aren't they?"

The Swede nodded, before speaking in her clipped tone, "St'ry t'me w'nt well again, hm, my Husb'nd?"

Finland nodded, but not before saying, "I'm not your husband," in a small voice.

Sweden simply shrugged and walked away from the door where two young nations dreamt of heroines and princes, of dungeons and of stories.

* * *

**A/N: This is a very long chapter thing! Ack! I sorta love doing things like this; getting one noun and building off of it! The hardest one so far was 'America vs. Japan: Spoon' because I couldn't remember what kind of spoons the Japanese use for their broths! But I got it! Virtual up top for me!**

**ANYWAYS! I will take any requests for anything at all (I will try my best)!**

**Send me a character(s)/group and/or a prompt (please make prompts one word nouns), And I will write off of it!**

**Translations:**

**Sale= Salt**

**Salz= Salt**

**Review for Fem!Canada! Wait, who?**


	2. Chapter 2: Chapter of AWESOME!

**I am Nyotalia! **

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: Ack! I forgot this last chapter! I don't own Hetalia! Sadly...**

* * *

**Teen!Prussia and Kid!Germany: Cooking**

Germany was having a bad day.

Not to say that her daily life was amazing or exciting or fun. She didn't have any friends her own age, not to mention the fact that since she was a nation, she couldn't ever hang out with humans, who would all grow old around her as she had everlasting youth.

But, Mein GOTT, it wasn't that hard to cook wurst and potatoes, was it?

Prussia, her older sister, could bake like hell! One dish she made was so good, Germany had tackled her and forced her to teach the recipe. The Prussian had later said that Germany could have just borrowed her cookbook 'Magdeburgisches Kochbuch' to get it.

But, besides that. Prussia used beer in all of her cooking, saying that it was the universal cooking tool. That being said, Germany was used to the taste of alcohol. So when she found out that Prussia had become inebriated whilst cooking them dinner, Germany was not surprised. She was pissed off, though.

Today had been an extremely boring day; first, she had gotten up and took an hour long shower, then she went into the library and read her sister's 'Books of Awesome' series. Which was simply a collection of diary entries she had kept since the 16th century. Needless to say, afterward, Germany found a wall to smack her little head into for an hour to try and get the word awesome from her head.

Then, she had smelt something burning. Running downstairs, Germany traced the smell to the kitchen. And stopped immediately after reaching it.

A giggling albino teen swung her legs back and forth on top of the kitchen counter, grinning at the large fire that once was their oven.

"Preußen," the child growled, barely containing her anger, "what. Happened?"

The Prussian in question looked over in drunken glee and tackled her younger sister in a drunk hug.

"Mein schwester is so CUTE!" Prussia squealed whilst snuggling closer to the blushing German.

"G-g-g-GET OFF OF ME, PRUSSIA!" Germany sputtered, flailing around madly. They were going to go down in flames and if they died, Germany was going to kill Prussia. Yes, Germany was so scared that she was being redundant!

Trying the stress-relief tactics Mr. Hungary had taught her, Germany grabbed the conveniently-placed pan off the floor and whacked her older sister in the face.

This caused Prussia to fly across the kitchen and into the wall in a comical manner, which would have left the German in tears if their kitchen WASN'T on fire at that moment.

"DAMMIT, Hungary! I di'nt rape your prissy Aust'ia!" the Prussian slurred. Germany resisted the urge to facepalm.

"Prussia... Schwester... How did you set half of the kitchen ON FIRE?" Germany screamed, having lost it mid-sentence.

The albino detached herself from the wall and scratched her head in confusion, "Well, I was making us beer-battered wurst and potatoes, but then I seemed to have ran out of beer, so I went into the beer cellar and got out another six pack, but I guess I put a bit too much on it-"

"DON'T YOU MEAN THAT YOU PUT TOO MUCH IN YOUR OWN MOUTH?" The younger sister screeched.

Prussia snorted, "That sounded dirty!"

3 buckets of water, 2 smoldering frying pans, and one knocked out Prussian later, the kitchen was spotless and Germany was cooking herself burnt wurst-potato stew.

Needless to say, Prussia wasn't allowed back in the kitchen for a LONG time.

* * *

**Requested by: Alice Siegfried Eire**

**Teen!Prussia and Teen!Austria: Arguments**

"Shut your face, you dumb Prussian! How DARE you do something like that to a proper lady like me!" Austria growled to the albino female across from him, who rolled her red orbs at this.

"Oh mein GOTT! You're such a stick in the mud! Austrian dork; always on that piano, never doing anything else!" The Prussian screamed back.

Austria scoffed, "At least I don't go around saying I'm 'awesome' every five minutes of the day! Unlike you, I have enough self-esteem and common sense to not do the stupid things that you do to get attention-"

"That's cold, priss!" Prussia glared harshly at her foe, "at least I'm strong, unlike little Miss. I-can't-even-carry-my-own-so-Switzy-has-to-fight-my-battles-"

"HEY!" a new voice rang out, "don't drag me into this! I'm neutral for this fight!" And thus began Switzerland's neutrality.

"Besides," Austria continued, "it's not as if you've never asked for help, Miss. Bad-Touch-Trio!"

"I'm too awesome to ask for help, Specs, something that a weak person like you HAS to do!" the Prussian snarled predatorily. She was the mighty Prussia, and was not about to be called weak by the stupid aristocrat!

The Austrian in question spoke in a softer voice, laced with hurt from Prussia's comment, "Friendship doesn't make you weak, Prussia. My friends make me stronger, like-"

"Like who?" Prussia sneered, still mad about the jab at her strength.

Austria looked down at her feet, "Like Hungary-"

"He's a loser-" Prussia stated.

"-And Switzerland-"

"I thought I said to keep me out of this-" an angry Swiss yelled, blushing profusely.

"-And, you, Prussia. You're my friend too, right?" Austria looked helpless and weak at that moment, not like the fair aristocrat she tried to come off as.

This left Prussia speechless for a moment, shocked that she herself had forgotten that although she didn't show it often, Austria still had feelings like any other person.

When Prussia snapped back to reality, she decided to change the topic, "What were we even fighting about anyways?"

Austria thought about it for a second, then chuckled, "I can't even remember!"

The two teens laughed for a minute, before Prussia faced Austria.

"Austria, you're my...friend, too... I guess," Prussia blushed deeply, turning her head to the side to hide her red face.

Stunned momentarily, Austria simply smiled softly and nodded.

"I'm still awesome, though! THE AWESOME PRUSSIA!" And, after pushing the Austrian aristocrat onto the ground, Prussia ran into the forest, laughing wildly.

"PRUSSIAAAAAA!" Oh, that's why they were fighting. Prussia was annoying as hell.

* * *

**Prussia: Periodical (noun and adjective)**

"Was zum Teufel IS this?" A shocked Prussian yelped from her spot at the dining table. The people around her shrugged out of politeness before returning to their meals.

"I think it's a newspaper, Miss. Prussia," whispered the timid Latvian from next to her. This earned him a smack on the arm from the other two Baltic states.

With a weak glare, Prussia replied, "I KNOW it's a newspaper. What I'm wondering is why in the name of Old Fritz I'M on the front cover! In a WET-TEE COMPETITION, no less!"

At this, all of the men in the room jumped out of their seats and struggled to get to the paper in Prussia's hands.

Shocked, Prussia stood on her chair and held the paper tightly above her head.

"SERIOUSLY, GUYS! Back up!" She yelled, kicking anyone who got too close for her comfort.

After one kick in particular, her chair was tipped over, and she fell into poor Latvia's small arms.

"OOF!"

"ACK!"

*CRACK!*

"Ow-ow-ow-ow..." Prussia muttered, rubbing her backside from her seat on top of the young, violet-eyed girl.

"Hey, Lithuania, do you think you could possibly drive me to the hospital? I'm pretty sure my arm isn't supposed to bend this way..." Latvia asked, her arms looking as if they could fall off at any moment.

"LATVIA!" Estonia shrieked, picking the little girl up and carrying her bride-style to their car, Lithuania in tow.

"I got the newspaper, guys!" Whooped a cheerful voice. Prussia stared in disbelief at the man who had broken someone's bones to get to the pictures.

"Fuck, Hungary, desperate much? You just incapacitated someone, and you didn't even bat an eye!" The albino yelled, angered by her frenime's harsh actions.

"Like, come ON, Prussia! Don't be so shy and let us see it!" Poland whined, stabbing a rather large piece of meat with her fork. Man, that girl sure acted like a man. If you squinted, you could mistake her as one.

"I'M NOT SHY!" Prussia roared in objection, "SHOW THEM THE FREAKIN' PICTURES, HUNGARY!"

Hungary smirked for a moment, but then stopped and thought, 'Is this really alright for me to do to Prussia? She was embarrassed about it, after all! I don't think I can do it...'

"Well?" Prussia's voice cut into Hungary's mental soliloquy like a knife, "are you gonna show them, or what?"

Hungary glanced once more at the newspaper in his hand, then, with a look of guilt on his face, handed it back to Prussia.

"I can't do that to you, Prussia," he whispered. Prussia stared at the Hungarian man for a minute before pushing the papers back into his hands.

"Show them the pictures, Hungary," she commanded him, ruby eyes piercing.

The Hungarian shook his head, "No, I'm not gonna-"

"SHOW THEM THE DAMN PICTURES!" Prussia shrieked, flipping the table across the room in blind rage.

Those still eating blinked a couple times as they processed what had just happened, a few still holding their forks and knifes in midair, as if they were still cutting their meat, which was currently residing on the wall. Then it set in.

3...

2...

1...

"Prussia!"

"My food!"

"What just happened?"

Many (female) nations spoke out against their food being assaulted, while only Germany sat rubbing the bridge of her nose to calm the coming headache.

The male nations (and Poland), on the other hand, could care less about their meal and would rather see one certain Prussian soaking wet on the front cover of the exclusively Prussian magazine.

The kinder males like Belgium and Ukraine restrained themselves, shooting an apologetic glance the albino girl's way.

The edgier males such as Seychelles and Belarus, on the other hand, leapt across the table to see the images; Belarus to compare Prussia to his older sister and Seychelles to use as blackmail later on.

Prussia looked at the extremely interesting wall and ceiling and anywhere other than the group of guys huddled in the corner of the room. She felt her face burn up, knowing it was useless to hide the blush on her fair skin tone.

"So, what do you guys think? I don't care if you laugh at me, so hit me with your best shot!" To emphasize her point, Prussia pounded her chest in a 'I-dare-you' sort of way.

Six heads turned around slowly to face the Prussian and then promptly nose-bled.

Prussia grimaced at the bloody mess on the floor that she would have to bleach later that day.

'Why does this happen every time I have people over? And who got these pictures, anyways?' thought Prussia as she looked at the pile of passed out men (and Poland).

...

"Do you think it worked, Amiga?" questioned a hushed voice. The woman in question looked to her Spanish friend and nodded, smirk planted on her face.

"Oui, mon ami!" answered France, "that'll teach her to mess with my Eiffel Tower! Ohonhonhon~!" The duo laughed, one out of success and the other out of cluelessness.

And thus concluded a normal meal with some of our European nations.

* * *

**Prussia and France: Voice**

"Kesesesese... She'll never know what hit her! I'm the ULTIMATE image of STEALTH! It's like one of those bond movies England always obsesses over! I mean, seriously, you get one good franchise and then you think you're the best! THERE'S NO MATCH FOR THE AWESOME PRUSSIA!"

Prussia shook the can in her hand before continuing to work.

"I wonder what she'll say... It'll probably be something like, 'Non! Mon Eiffel Torre! Boo-honhonhon!' That Frenchie won't know what hit her when she sees this!"

Prussia cackled at this, grabbing a different color and prancing around as she continued.

"I'm so AWESOME at impressions! I should try Spain now! Here goes nothing, 'Mi tomato is so cute! I could just eat you right up! IN BED! Fusososo~!' I got that one right, too! Kesesesese!"

Prussia walked backwards to get a better view of her masterpiece.

"Kesesesese! Done! I would call this my 'Piece de Triumph!' And she'll never know that the AWESOME PRUSSIA was the one who did it!"

Snickering, Prussia slipped away, not noticing the small tomato hidden behind the Eiffel.

Said tomato rolled down the tower and took itself back to its rightful owner, Spain, who was then able to watch the video footage.

"Thank goodness Japan made these tomato-cams for me! Now France and I will be able to get back at Prussia! Gracias, tomato-cam!"

...

In the morning, France was surprised to see a large tattoo on her chest, or, the Eiffel tower. After all, Paris is the heart of France!

She let out a high-pitched scream upon seeing the giant design on herself, first wondering if she had gotten drunk last night. When that was proven untrue by her lack of hangover, she feared someone had slipped something in her drink, but then remembered that she was the queen of slipping things into drinks, and would have noticed anything suspicious.

Then she noticed what her bosom said on it. It read, 'SUCK THE AWESOME, BIATCH!' with little yellow birds flying around it.

France growled under her breath. It had obviously been Prussia who had vandalized her Eiffel, and that same Prussia was going to pay.

Looking at the pictures she took at her annual wet-tee competition, she smirked to herself.

"You want to play dirty, non? Then let's play dirty."

* * *

**Prussia and America: Coke (Coca Cola)**

"Coke is the best soda EVER!" an exuberant American shouted in glee, skipping into the world meeting with glee.

"I don't see what's so good about a drink that always tastes the same, no matter what flavor. Plus, your Coca Cola causes zits! I'd much rather drink my awesome Fanta!" Prussia stated, feet sat atop the table.

America scoffed and glared at the Prussian girl in front of her.

"No, Fanta is MINE! You wouldn't even HAVE Fanta if not for what I did!"

"More like what you DIDN'T do!" Prussia scowled, "you didn't have to cut us off from supplies just because of politics!"

The blonde girl grumbled and crossed her arms, "Coke's still better, though..."

"IS NOT!" Prussia screamed in anger, "Fanta is the best!"

"Actually," spoke two new voices in unison, "our Nestlé-brand iced tea is the best!"

America and Prussia looked up from where they were arguing to see England arm in arm with Switzerland, both wearing similar smirks on their faces. Both girls stared jaw-dropped at the two blondes in front of them, who looked as if they were going to crack up at any moment.

"You two should close your mouths," sniggered England, twirling one of her pony tails on her finger, "bugs will fly in."

Switzerland chuckled for a minute before she added, "You guys look like fish out of water. What, you didn't remember Nestlé's superiority?"

Looking at each other, England and Switzerland cracked up laughing and walked away, leaving America and Prussia shell-shocked.

"What..." America started.

"Just..." added Prussia.

"Happened...?" the two finished together.

America got a gleam in her eyes and reached into her shirt, pulling out two mini cans of soda from who-knows-where.

"Want one?" She asked, displaying the Coca Cola label. The Prussian stared for a minute, then shrugged and grabbed the can from the American's hand.

"Wait," Prussia stopped, looking at the can in her hand, "did you have this in your bra?"

The American nodded and told her, "It really works!"

Prussia made a mental note of that and took a large gulp of the carbonated beverage.

...

Later, at the Beilschmidt residence, Germany grabbed a Coca Cola from the fridge. While walking back to her study, she peeked into Prussia's room.

"Ack! Why won't it fit? Just one more... There!"

Germany walked back to the kitchen and proceeded to dump out her Coke into the sink. Coca Cola was overrated anyways. Germany would much rather drink Sprite, anyways.

**A/N: Wow, that was... Something. **

**Woot! One review! Thanks ya for following! Anyone else there? I wonder if everyone is reading Locked instead...?**

**Well, this has been a very Prussia-centric chapter! So, send me some more requests for cannon characters and I'll do them! Just ask, really! I don't own Coca Cola, either! I don't even have any in my fridge! *Sadness***

**Translations:**

**'Magdeburgisches Kochbuch'= Apparently some ancient cookbook with a boatload of Prussian/German recipes! And like a real Prussian, all recipes I found related to Prussia had beer in them. Typical Prussia!**

**Mein Gott= My God**

**Preußen= Prussia**

**Mein Schwester= My Sister**

**Was zum Teufel= What the Hell**

**Non= No**

**Mon Eiffel Torre= (incorrect French for) My Eiffel Tower**

**'Piece de Triumph'= 'Piece of Triumph'**

**Coca Cola= Made by America as a medical remedy. He still doesn't understand colds, does he?**

**Fanta= Created by German Coca Cola manager during WW2; Made because the Allies cut off Coke ingredients.**

**Nestlé= An Anglo-Swiss company; owns rights to Nestéa brand.**

**Sprite= Created after Fanta.**

**Review for Latvia and her stabbing flower! Ah, children these days with their shivering and their stabbing with flowers-ing!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer: Ok, so I wanted to let you know that I now officially own Hetalia! *shot***

**I don't own it, ok? A girl can dream, can't she?**

* * *

**Chibitalia: Fall**

"Holy Rome! Holy Rome! Where ARE you?" A voice squeaked through the house as a young child ran down the halls. The girl's hair was short and she was drowning in bandages, which covered the many bruises and scrapes she got from tripping or cooking or being crushed by sharp boot heels.

'Damn Aristocrat...' Chibitalia thought to herself as she raced through the unnecessarily long corridors.

Spotting the short blonde girl with flowing hair, Chibitalia sped up and called out to her.

"Holy Rome! It's me, Italy! I hope you're not still mad about the whole 'rape incid-' Eek!" Italy's rambling was cut off when she finally realized that Holy Roman Empire looked so tiny because she was at the bottom of a flight of stairs. A large flight of stairs.

"Italy!" Holy Roman Empire shrieked as her friend tumbled down the steps, eliciting a yelp of pain with each hit. Holy Rome winced at each cry and turned her head to the side, eyes welling up with tears at the Italian's hurt.

At the bottom of the steps sat Italy, rubbing her butt, "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow..." The Germanic child knelt in front of Chibitalia and fret over her with worry.

"Are you ok, Italy?" Holy Rome asked, concerned about the long and hard fall the Italian took.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" the Italian reassured her, "don't worry; it's just a few scratches! I need to watch where I'm going sometimes!"

Holy Rome sighed; it seemed as if Italy was fine. 'He's acting normal, so he must be alright. But... No, Italy was tougher than that... Right?'

"See, Holy? I'm fi- OH!" This snapped Holy Rome out of her musings as she looked over to Italy, who had unsuccessfully attempted to

stand up, and was now clutching her ankle in pain.

"You're not ok, Italy! Your ankle is twisted! Please, let me look at it!" Holy Rome pleaded with the other. After some contemplation, Italy nodded in agreement, and allowed for Holy Roman Empire to support her as they hobbled to the supply closet to get the first aid kit.

Italy sat on the table as Holy Rome applied ointment to all her cuts. She hissed when the antiseptic touched her cuts, while Holy Rome muttered soothing words (or, just naming different types of pasta, as that seemed to work better).

That was when Italy realized, 'I think I've fallen for Holy Rome!'

And then Italy fell off of the table, onto the hard floorboards. Clumsy Italian!

* * *

**Japan vs. America: Invention**

"Hey, Japan! Look what I made!" A loud voice shouted through the Japanese girl's house.

Said woman cringed at the noise, which had cut through her blissful silence. 'Westerners...'

"Yes, America?" Japan knew it was America without turning around because, well, America made herself known fairly easily.

"Check it, yo! It's this totally epic device so you can put your phone in your cami! That way it won't get sweaty, like when you put it inside your bra, and-"

"I'm sorry," Japan interrupted America, "but what did you say? Phone... Cami... B-bra..." By the end of the sentence, Japan's face was bright red.

America, on the other hand, was obliviously happy, if not slightly miffed at being stopped in the middle of what would have been the world's longest run-on sentence.

"Yes! It's a Bra-Cami-Phone-Thing-a-ma-jig!"

"Rea-"

"9000!"

"Ok..." Japan stared at the American for a moment, before pulling something out of her pocket.

"What's that?" The American asked her, trying to sneak a peek over her shoulder.

Japan smiled softly before displaying the objects in her hands.

"This is a automated float-and-go phone carrier, which, as you can see, is built to have mechanical wings strong enough to carry any type of phone. They come in many different colors and designs and also play a harp solo as the wings flap. We're currently selling them for ¥2000."

America's jaw was dropped as she stared at the Japanese girl.

"W-when did you come up with this?" she sputtered with disbelief.

Japan shrugged, "A second ago."

"B-buh, ah- buh... Wha-huh..." America failed to find words to describe what she was feeling.

Japan left the room as America mumbled, "I guess she doesn't want to see my pill that cures all worldly (and otherworldly, as approved by Toni the certifiable doctor-alien who chills with me and Miss. Whaley, but besides that) diseases. Huh, shame, it must not be that important if I forgot to mention it! Better just throw it out!"

* * *

**Nordic 5: Skirt**

"I'm not going to wear that, Norway!" cried a very upset Icelander as she was chased by the ever-stoic Norwegian, who was carrying a long piece of fabric in her hands.

The other three Nordics stared in wonder and confusion as the two siblings ran circles around the sitting room table.

After five minutes, the girls were still racing around the table. Dizzy from watching them, Sweden stood and simply held her arm out, which proved successful when both sisters ran at it full force and were knocked onto their butts.

"OW!" was the simutanious response out of both of them.

"Th'nk you," Sweden sighed in peace as she reclaimed her seat and attempted to make the room stop spinning.

Finland stood now, and helping both girls up, directed them to chairs on opposite sides of the table, where Iceland immediately looked away from her older sister. Norway stared at her intently, as if willing her to change her mind about... Whatever it was they were arguing about this time.

Denmark walked behind Norway's chair and, mussing up her hair, asked, "This isn't 'bout that whole 'Big Sis' thing again, is it? Because- ACK!"

By this time, Norway had managed to sneak up behind Denmark and begin strangling her with her own necktie.

Finland looked on with worry, Iceland with indifference, while Sweden was the only one smiling at the display of violence.

"Sve, shouldn't we do something to stop them?" Finland fretted, adjusting the buttons on her top.

Sweden pushed her glasses up, gleaming with the sun beams, "Nah," Finland rolled her eyes.

"You're just saying that because you like seeing Denmark in pain!" Finland protested loudly over the sounds of choking. Sweden said nothing, but a tiny smirk lit her face.

Turning to Iceland, Finland asked the cleverly avoided question, "What was Norway trying to get you to wear?"

Iceland blushed a bright red and looked away. She mumbled incoherently under her breath and pulled on her necktie.

Popping up behind Iceland's chair was Norway, "I just wanted my baby sister to wear this skirt I made for her."

Finland and Iceland screamed in surprise and fear, the former jumping into her 'wife's' lap and the latter clutching her chest as if her heart would stop at any second.

"I'm... Not... Wear...ing it!" the Icelandic girl puffed, trying to get her heart-rate back to normal.

"Ple-"

"No," deadpanned Iceland.

"Little Sis-"

"No."

"Little Sis-"

"No!"

"Little Bro-"

"THAT MAKES NO SENSE!" Iceland screamed, throwing a notepad at her older sister, who dodged it easily. Then, another chase was on as Norway avoiding the onslaught of projectiles thrown by Iceland.

The other three watched for a minute, and then walked over to the dress to see what was so bad about it.

Finland surveyed the article for a second before handing it off to Sweden, who analyzed it like the seamstress she was (and tried to hide). Sweden then grimaced softly before chucking it at the Dane's head.

Inspecting the cloth, Denmark said the dumbest 3 words in all of history.

"This freakin' SUCKS!" Norway's head whipped around as she turned to face the source of the sound. Her face was no longer unreadable and now held an expression that nearly made Sweden cry.

Said swede gave a quick, "D'nmark said it," before picking Finland up under her arm and speeding out of the room, the Finn screeching in fear all the way.

"What. Did. You. Say?" Norway crept closer, and Iceland finally got her moment of escape.

Before going through the door, Iceland turned to face the room and said in a solemn voice, "Denmark was a good woman, although being annoying as hell, she will be missed. Rest in pieces."

The last thing Iceland heard when running from the room was the sound of pointless begging and then crying in fear. And no one insulted Norway's outfits ever. Again.

* * *

**Canada: Wool**

Canada loved clothes. Maybe it had rubbed off on her during her time as a French colony, but she had a bit of a... Obsession.

Looking into her closet was like being transported to a world of shirts, pants, dresses, and shoes. Basically it was a teenage girl's heaven.

Her closet was filled with all different types of fabrics and materials, varying in color.

Entering her style sanctum, Canada sighed in relief. Somehow, being surrounded by dozens of clothes that had the slight fragrance of maple syrup and pine trees was comforting. She would sometimes come into this room just to cry or be alone when she felt like she was unneeded and invisible to the world.

The blonde girl walked slowly to the small vanity placed within her huge walk-in closet. Sitting down, the Canadian began to fix her hair when an article of clothing caught her eye.

Approaching said object, Canada smiled and ran her hand across the soft material of that special scarf.

'Why don't I ever wear this?' she asked herself as she reminisced about when she got this accessory.

...

"Hey, Canadia!" shouted an exuberant voice. Said 'Canadia' rolled her eyes as she looked back at her ball-of-energy sister sprinting into her kitchen.

"I'm Canada, America!" she tried to yell, though it came out more like a squeak.

America looked up from where she had been grabbing scissors from and turned to the annoyed Canadian.

"What did ya say, brah?" Her glasses glinted dangerously, and Canada let out a fear-filled "Eep!", while backing away slowly from her sister.

"N-n-never mind, j-j-j-just forget ab-b-bout it!" she stuttered, her back hitting the kitchen counter.

"I couldn't hear you. ANYWAYS, who has two awesome thumbs and got you the best birthday present EVER? This gal!"

Canada glared at her sister, "My birthday was more than four months ago, America! And guess who has two thumbs and forgot AGAIN!"

Said American rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, "This... Gal..."

Canada sighed, "I forgive you, so let's just get this over with." This seemed to satisfy America, because she bounced back into her cheerful demeanor instantly.

"Oh yeah! I got you something!" America shouted, pulling out a gift bag from nowhere, "open it! Do it!"

The bag was shoved into the Canuck's face, who in turn attempted to get the taste of plastic out of her mouth whilst opening her present.

When she pulled out the gift, Canada couldn't help but gasp. America had gotten her a beautiful scarf.

This wasn't just any scarf, though. This scarf was white with red maple leaves scattered on it. It was extremely soft and Canada could tell the American had thought about her while picking it out. Which meant...

"You actually remembered that I like scarves and maple..." the Canadian breathed slowly. America scoffed.

"Of course I remembered! How could I forget my little sister!" Laughing, America playfully smacked Canada on the back, causing a sisterly scuffle, which ended with one on top of the other in a heap of laughter.

...

After ten minutes of wearing her beloved scarf, Canada looked down and suddenly remembered why she had never worn it.

"Oh, that's right... I, I'm allergic to wool... Ambulance..." And with that, Canada passed out. The closet is comforting UNLESS an American is involved. But it's all good; Canada has free health care, so... Yeah.

* * *

**World Meeting: Heart**

Silence. For once the world meeting was devoid of any sound; you would be able to hear a pin drop on the ground, as the world looked on in fear as a certain Russian girl's heart hit the table with a thud.

France fainted on top of England, thus crushing her with her taller height. Italy and her sister held onto each other for dear life as Germany and Spain attempted to calm them down. The Asian nations snuck away to both get away from the sight and to refill their bowls with rice and noodles. Switzerland quickly covered her younger brother's eyes, while Lichtenstein attempted to squirm away from his older sister figure's hand.

The Nordics were motionless for once, as no one wanted to make any sudden movement. Canada slowly slid under the meeting table, while everyone else backed away from said table.

Only three people (besides Russia) were still at the meeting table: Ukraine who was holding back Belarus, who was chanting about 'capturing his older sister's heart' and 'marriage' in a nefarious song.

The last person still there was America, who looked at the heart with a mix of wonder and confusion.

Russia, on the other hand, attempted to maintain her smile while simutaniously fighting off a blush.

'Why did it have to pop out here, during a World Meeting? This is extremely embarrassing...' Near-invisible tears began to blur her vision, but she forced her eyes to stop crying, because she was Russia.

All of a sudden, a feeling of warmth spread through her body. Confused, she opened her violet orbs and looked for the source of this feeling.

It was America, who had the Russian's heart cupped in her warm hands, "Hey, Commie, does this hurt?" The Russian smiled lightly and shook her head.

Ukraine bustled over like the worrisome father-figure he was and helped the American to hold Russia's heart.

"I thought this had stopped, Russia," He spoke softly, "you should have told me." Russia looked down in shame.

Yet another hand held her heart, and she looked up to see her younger brother, Belarus, who simply nodded. Russia understood what it meant though, 'I love you.'

The Baltic Trio came up and supported her heart and each gave her a smile mirroring her own.

Other nations came and helped the others, until almost the whole world was warming Russia's heart.

One final hand rested itself on Russia's core. Russia followed the pale hand to its source and gasped when she realized who it was.

"Kesese, need help with that, Russland?" the albino woman grinned wildly. All was forgiven, and Russia need not live in the past any longer.

Her heart grew warmer and began to glimmer a gold color as the world pushed along the Russian's soul. And Russia's heart was finally given light, Pechka.

* * *

**A/N: Why did the ending turn out so fluffy? What the heck! So not cool.**

**ANYWAYS!**

**What the Fritz, guys? I need suggestions to keep you guys happy! So come on! Your favorite cannon character will be Nyotalized by moi!**

**So COME ON!**

**Translations:**

**Sve=Sweden; Su-Chan**

**Russland= Russia**

**Review if you wanna be Canadian, please!**


	4. Chapter 4: The Cool Asians

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia. Still wish I did.**

* * *

**Requested by: Guest (sorry, I don't know your pen-name)**

**Korea and Hong Kong: Blood (scary!)**

"Da-ze! That came from me, you know!" A loud girl with long, pigtailed hair shouted with glee. The other Asian nations stared at her with disinterest, already too used to this daily occurrence of origin claiming.

Well, all except one person (though this person wore an indifferent expression as well, though this was also normal for her).

"You don't own my things," spoke a monotone voice in protest to South Korea. Said South-Korean's head whipped around towards the noise, eyes flitting across those presently in their sitting room and landing on the Hong Konger woman.

South Korea scoffed at this, and strode towards Hong Kong with determination written across her face. She stopped in front of the Chinese girl, hands upon her hips, as if South Korea was about to give Hong Kong a lecture.

Said girl looked up at the Korean blankly, the latter wearing an incredulous expression on her face.

"Wha-"

"I'm the origin of ALL, da-ze! Even you!" South Korea boasted. Hong Kong blinked, as did all of the other Asians while South Korea was as oblivious as ever.

Japan was the first to break from their blinking stupor.

"Do you mean to say that you CREATED Hong Kong?" the Japanese woman asked the Korean, "because then that would mean that Hong Kong would be-"

"YES, I created Hong Kong! I am her origin, after all, da-ze." At this the family of nations sported matching blushes, Japan having a small nosebleed.

Flustered, China and Hong Kong stood and proclaimed, "You don't own Hong Kong! Stop making up stories!"

China then walked up to the Korean girl and placed an oversized sleeve on her shoulder, "I understand that you have a small crush on me, aru, but-"

"WHAT?" Korea flushed a deep scarlet, jumping away from the Chinese woman's grasp, "I don't have a crush on you! I don't have a crush on any of you guys! Why would you think that, da-ze?"

The other nations were confused. The girl who laid claim on China and Japan's vital regions so many times didn't like them like that? Then why else would she do that?

"Excuse me," a tenor voice rang out through the silence, "but if you don't like China, then why would you tell us that you and her had Hong Kong?"

South Korea wore a blank stare for a moment, then cracked up into laughter. Taiwan looked around before he slipped back into the background, regretting asking his question.

Everyone looked at each other for a second, then back at the Korean they had dubbed insane.

Hong Kong was still expressionless, but the aura around her was murderous. She stood and walked over the South Korea, who she kicked with her slipper.

"Like, don't mess around! You're totally annoying me right now! Like, seriously, tell me!" Hong Kong slipped back into her Gyaru-o accent.

South Korea smiled widely at the Chinese girl standing above her, before pulling something from her sleeve.

"Like, what's that?" droned Hong Kong, reaching for it. South Korea pulled her hand back, though, and Hong Kong only caught air.

"I do own Hong Kong, though," South Korea giggled, "because I have her blood! Therefore, she is mine, da-ze!"

"Oh. My. GOD! You totally took a sample of my BLOOD!" As the two girls raced around the room, the others decided to go get some more food before the World Meeting.

* * *

**World Meeting: Island**

"Da-ze! Da-ze! Da-ze!"

"So CUTE, aru! Shinatty-Chan is adorable, aru!"

"Ah, that is mine, China! Stop calling it yours!"

"Like, your almost as bad as, like, South Korea."

"Japan is not like her at all, Hong Kong!"

"Taiwan..."

"Oh, don't be so shy, Vietnam!"

"...I'm not shy!"

"I'm not like South Korea..."

"I still like Shinatty-Chan, aru!"

"All your breasts belong to me, da-ze!"

"YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!"

"RESPONSIBILITY, ARU!"

"So that's where Japan learnt that..."

"Vietnam~! You're such a cutie~!"

"... What..."

The rest of the nations looked on at the scene of Asians before them with both awe and fear alike.

England looked to the Frenchwoman to the left of her, "This is why they are Asia and not Europe."

France nodded her head in agreement before turning to her friends Spain and Prussia, who were planning something that involved the Italy twins and duct tape.

It was as if the Asians were on an island of their own. All Europeans thought simultaneously, 'Easterners sure are weird.'

* * *

**China: Novel**

"Hello everyone, aru!" the young-looking girl greeted the world, "America got a cold, so she asked me to go in her place, aru!" Actually, what really happened was...

...

"C-china... *cough* I-I *cough* I..."

"America! Are you ok?" the Chinese woman ran to America's bedside, grabbing onto her hand. She had brought some herbs over for the American, and found her like this.

"China... I c-choose you..." America whispered, before passing out.

There was silence for a second before China began violently shaking the American by the shoulders.

"YOU STUPID AMERICAN, ARU! YOU HAD ME WORRIED FOR NOTHING, ARU!"

...

"So, aru, for the first item of business, America wanted to present her ideas through this, aru," China continued, grabbing something from her panda-head purse.

"America wanted to read us a bloody book? What is this, storytime at the public library?" England rolled her eyes as she sipped her tea softly.

France shrugged her shoulders at this, "It is not like any of you could write a story quite like mine; sadly, you lack the eloquence I-"

"Bloody Frog! Sod off!" The Englishwoman pounced France, thus beginning the cat-fight of the century, with many countries placing bets on who would win or throwing chairs into the brawl.

"QUIET!" A voice shouted. Everyone turned to the automatic person.

"Germany..." They all breathed, although the German struggled against Prussia's groping hands and Romana's tomato-throwing, and thus could not have yelled.

Canada stood atop the table and whistled loudly, getting the other nation's attention.

"America, you're sick! You should be in bed sleeping!" England scolded, motherly side reappearing.

"But I'm Can-" Canada protested, to no avail.

"No buts, Amérique!" France tutted as she pushed the Canadian out of the door, "and you are not allowed back inside until you are all better!"

"Well, now I should start reading, aru, before all you Westerners kill each other," China smiled, grabbing the book, "I think that this could be America's first smart idea, aru!"

The Chinese woman cleared her throat and began reading.

...

_ My name is America, or the USA. I am a superpower nation, and I work alongside some of the best countries in the world. _

_ Though it may not always seem like it, I care for the whole world very deeply. I am only a small part of Earth and an even smaller part of the whole galaxy. I respect the other countries that help keep the planet running safely._

_ If youre reading this, then I am already dead-_

...

"WHAT?" was the unanimous response to this from everyone present at the World Meeting, which was, the world.

All nations tackled China to the ground and fought to read the rest of the book, China protesting that 'America had chosen her to be the keeper of her will' while England and France teamed up to pry the book out of her hands.

...

"Hey Sis! Do you see them fighting over me? That's so epic! Haha!" America laughed at the security footage that played in the monitor room of the meeting hall.

Sitting next to the exuberant and healthy American was Canada, who fidgeted in her seat nervously.

"I don't know, America. Isn't this a little wrong to convince them that you're dead? Also considering they thought I was you... Although, they probably forgot by now..."

"MY BABY! I BLAME YOU, FROG!"

"ANGLETERRE, I MISS HER TOO! BUT I'M NOT BLAMING YOU! Just your cooking..."

The two North American sisters looked at the screen, then at each other, and burst out into laughter. Once the others found out it was just a prank, they were so screwed. So, they might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

"YOU BIT MY HAND, ARU!"

* * *

**Japan: Delete**

"What is this, Japan?" Italy asked, skipping over to a lit-up button that was floating in midair.

"No, Italy, Don't press th-" Japan was cut off when Italy tapped the button.

Italy jumped backwards as if it had shocked her, "I'm so sorry Japan, please do not be mad, save me Germa- Japan? Japan? Japan!"

The Japanese girl in question had her eyes closed, black hair floating around her as she was levitated from the ground. Her light-pink kimono flapped in an invisible wind.

Germany gasped in shock when she began to speak, "Italy-Germany-America-England-France-Russia-Greece-Turkey-Romana-Spain-Prussia-"

Other nations ran towards the trio, distraught. America and Italy hugged each other in fear, England and Russia sat side by side, while France, Prussia, and Spain held hands with Romana. Greece stood silently with Turkey, both expressionless as the watched Japan.

"-Korea-Taiwan-Vietnam-Thailand-Hong Kong" All of the Asian nations began to cry together as their names were droned.

"-China. Memory dele-"

"NO!" China tackled the Japanese woman and enveloped her in a tight hug, pressing the girl's limp form to her chest. China sobbed loudly and agonizingly, clutching onto Japan for dear life.

England finally came and pulled her up from the ground where she had landed.

"It's no use, China. Once a nation presses their delete, they don't come back."

Italy screamed into her sister's shirt at this. A simple accident had killed her best friend, and it was all because she was a klutz.

Sputtering, Japan's eyes fluttered open. She looked around in confusion for a minute, before her eyes settled on China.

"Big Sister?" Japan whispered, scared to find out why all of the nations were crying when she woke up.

China sighed in relief, and pulled Japan into another embrace, thankful that her little sister would live one more day.

* * *

**Asians: Product**

"Vocaloid is the biggest pop star agency here! I'm Japan, and I'm in charge of all of the music and videos! I hope you enjoy your time here!" The Japanese girl bowed politely, and then was replaced by an exuberant Taiwanese boy.

"Hey! I'm Taiwan, and I'll be in charge of all of your outfits and costumes! Just call me your fashion advisor!"

He spun out of the way to reveal a girl with long braids and a bright smile on her face.

"I'm South Korea, da-ze! When people ask where you came from, just say you originated in South Korea, da-ze! I'm in charge of any traveling tours and your website!"

She skipped away, leaving an emotionless woman in her wake. The emotionless girl nodded politely.

"Hong Kong; I will handle your advertisements. You can, like, totally trust me, and stuff. Probably." She walked away normally, no one appearing behind her.

'Thank goodness, no one e-'

"You're so CUTE, aru! I am China, and I am in charge of all of your accessories, aru! I'll make sure you look cute, aru! And your accessories may or may not be put on sale after you wear them... So don't get too attached, aru!" The girl squeezed her stuffed panda toy after she finished.

Vietnam finally couldn't take it anymore, "I was just looking for the bathroom." Once he finished talking, his face was bright red.

"Oh," the group in front of him looked at the floor sheepishly.

"I came in here to use the restrooms, so would you mind telling me where they were?" The Vietnamese man questioned them.

China pointed the restroom out to him, which he quickly ran to. While China was looking away, the rest of the group had slowly begun to creep away to their offices.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING, ARU?" China, from out of nowhere, grabbed a giant flyswatter (made by China, of course) and swung it towards the team, who quickly dodged it.

"I'm sorry for my horrible performance! I will try to do better!" Japan apologized, narrowly avoiding swatting by flipping to the ceiling in all of her ninja glory.

Taiwan duck/jumped the flyswatter while saying, "I- could- have- been- less- ex-ci-ted!" Finally, he leapt out of the pattern, and was able to scurry off into the distance.

China then turned to Hong Kong, who shrugged and said impassively, "I'm sort of sorry, and I probably won't do it again. Possibly. Maybe." before walking away. This left China staring blankly at the Hong Kongese woman, while South Korea attempted to get a clear shot to her cubical.

"Well, all we can do is do better, da-ze!" She giggled in good nature, not noticing the dark aura reminiscent of a certain Russian that was currently surrounding China.

"YOU, ARU! STOP TELLING PEOPLE THAT YOU OWN THEM!" The Chinese woman screamed at her, chasing South Korea around the office with the enormously sized flyswatter. And this was normal, because they're Asian.

* * *

**A/N: Yay! I got to do the Cool Asians! Woop! And somehow the fluff seeped into this! So I had to de-fluff this thing. And I just realized how short this chapter is; I'm just feeling angsty now... But I started these to give me ideas for new stories!**

**So, the last one ended up being where they all apparently work together in an entertainment industry to create pop stars like Vocaloid/Jpop or Kpop, and everything that we Americans wish we could be (but are not).**

**Translations:**

**Amérique= America**

**Angleterre= England**

**Keep on sending the requests! If it's cannon, then I can-non! Ok, I'm writing this at 4 am, so all my jokes suck. Don't judge.**

**Review for Japan's endless salt buffet! Yum!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Hey, look! See that? That's me owning Hetalia! Now look back at me. Now back at me owning Hetalia. Poof! It was all an illusion. Back to the real me. I'm writing a new chapter now. See how I smack my head across the table? That's me, coming up with new ideas for these drabbles. It's called a writing process. Now I'm done rambling. Now look below this. Thats the story this is keeping you from. You should probably start reading now.**

* * *

**Chibitalia: Find**

"Holy Rome... Holy Rome... HOLY ROME!" Chibitalia called out to her friend as she wandered around outside. What good was having the day off if she had no one to spend it with?

'Ve... Where could she be?' Italy wondered as she continued to search the yard for her friend.

Behind the shed, "Holy Rome? No..." and in the back too, "Holy? Not here..."

The small child returned to the front of the large estate, and continued looking for her friend.

"Holy Rome?" Chibitalia sighed to herself, 'Nope, not in the mouse traps.'

Pulling the offending objects from her fingers, feet, and now-sore nose, the Italian child continued on her search.

"Holy Rome?" She wasn't behind the tree, in the bush, or under the pebble. Where could she be?

Finally, Italy arrived at a small lake near the edge of the dense forested area that was in front of the manor.

The small girl dropped to the ground and hung herself over the bank carefully, and peeked at the water.

Unable to see anything, Italy moved her head closer and closer to the lake, hoping to get a better glimpse at what could possibly be the person she was looking for. Because of this, she did not sense the presence of somebody walking up to her from behind.

"Italy?"

"ACK!" Italy had been so focused on the task in front of her that the sudden noise had startled her and caused her to lose her grip on the land and fall into the water, dragging whoever was behind her into the lake with her.

A large splash unsettled the water, which was further disturbed when two heads popped up in unison, the duo gasping for lost air.

Finally catching her breath, Italy turned to see who had been caught up in her clumsy antics, and was shocked to see the one person she had been looking for the whole time.

"HOLY ROME!" the Italian squealed, pulling a red Holy Roman Empire into a big hug. Said girl was now thoroughly drenched, her clothes weighing twice as much and her hair stringy and stuck to her face.

"Italy! I was looking for you everywhere! You were needed inside!" she cried, both exasperated and trying desperately to ignore the close distance they shared at the moment.

The Italian in queasyion tilted her head to the side in confusion. 'What was she needed inside for?'

"But it's my day off today," Chibitalia protested to the other child, who had face-palmed at this.

"Italy," she breathed, trying to calm herself down, "your day off is TOMORROW!" Chibitalia let out a small, "Oh," before facing the Germanic girl with a broad smile on her face.

Italy grinnned widely and asked, "So... Wanna strip?"

* * *

**World War 1: Driving**

"ITALY," a loud, alto voice boomed, "you need to learn how to drive. I heard from Japan that you do not know how to correctly drive, although she could not give me full details as she was crying about 'speed bumps not being speed bumps' and other nonsense. I think her animes are getting to her."

Germany nodded to herself, then looked up to see empty space where the bubbly italian had previously been.

"ITALY!" She dragged a babbling Italian from a conveniently-placed gelato stand.

"Ve, what were you ranting on about that I will probably ultimately fail at in the end, thus proving all of your efforts fruitless?"

The German stared blankly at said Italian, who had just said something both insightful and insulting in the same sentence. She hit her head with her knuckles, thinking that maybe that new wurst she bought was giving her hallucinations again. She should really throw that out.

"Ok, Germany! Let's go!" Italy cheered, and dragged the German to her red Ferrari with Italian speed.

Once they got to the car, Italy leapt over her car door, not even trying to open it, and into her seat. Dumbfounded, her German companion wondered to herself why the Italian couldn't do that during training.

"Okay! Let's go! Andiamo!" Italy cheered, slamming her heeled boot onto the gas and burned rubber. Each turn had Germany screaming higher and higher in pitch, until she was shrieking so high, only a dog could hear it.

Giggling, Italy swerved in between cars. This wasn't to difficult, as they were in northern Italy, so all the drivers drove like that.

Germany held onto the 'Holy-shit-I'm-gonna-die' handle for dear life, praying to god in German.

Thankfully for the German woman, they soon encountered traffic, and had to stop behind a long line of cars. She audibly sighed in relief, not sensing the darkening atmosphere around Italy.

"Il cazzo? Che palle!" Italy growled, smacking her hand on the horn. Germany jumped in surprise, glancing at the Italian, and blanching when she saw the look of anger on Italy's face.

Shivering, she returned her focus to the road which, after a few minutes, was finally moving again.

"Yay! We're moving!" the Northern Italian was all smiles again. It was unsettling how quickly her emotions changed. Germany had no time to think this, though, as they were soon speeding across the highway yet again.

When they drove back into the training camp, Italy was laughing good heartedly, but all Germany could hear was menacing cackling as she curled up on the backseat that she had fallen onto while they were spinning out on the main road.

Japan walked outside with a bowl of rice in her hand, which soon crashed onto the ground once she saw the quivering German and chortling Italian.

Once Italy had gone inside for her pasta and siesta, the Japanese girl ran to the car and opened the back door for the German woman. When she saw that Germany was incapable of exiting the car, Japan sighed and pulled Germany into her arms and carrying her inside.

Germany stuttered, "T-t-the speed bumps... T-they weren't-"

"I know, Germany," Japan spoke softly, "I know."

And so, since that fateful day, Germany vowed to make cars that displayed the true power of German engineering, das auto.

* * *

**Russia and Friends: Behavior**

"Kolkolkolkolkolko-" Russia was cut off from her dark chant by a large hand hitting her on the back of the head. Hard.

The hit brought a few stray tears to her eyes, which she quickly tried to force back. She was Mother Russia; in Soviet Russia, they don't cry tears. Tears cry them.

She looked up to who had hit her, and was surprised and also a bit scared to see her older brother, Ukraine, frowning at her with a disappointed face.

Russia quickly looked down at her lap, unnerved by her sibling's unusual mood. Usually, Ukraine was on her side as a good support and a parental figure. Having Ukraine upset with her was like having your parent catch you drawing on the wall, or eating the last cookie. It put that deep feeling of guilt in her stomach and made her regret whatever she had done almost immediately.

"Apologize," Ukraine instructed sternly. By this point, Russia was confused. What had she done wrong that deserved to be apologized for?

"For what?" Russia questioned. To her, it seemed like a valid question, but to Ukraine, it seemed like Russia was talking back to him.

Ukraine pulled her up roughly from the chair she had been sitting in and dragged her to where the Baltic trio had currently been shivering. 'Where they cold? They should become one with me so we can huddle up together!'

The Russian woman looked over to her Ukrainian brother, wondering what she was supposed to say.

Sighing lightly, Ukraine built up what little courage he had, and initiated a conversation with the trembling three.

"Sorry to bother you, Russia has something she would like to say. Right, Russia." The final question was stated more like a statement than an actual question.

Fearing the punishment she would receive if she didn't obey her brother, Russia nodded her head vigorously.

"So..." Ukraine trailed off, urging the Russian to talk. Russia simply stared back at her and parroted the same trailed-off word.

"She..."

"I..."

"Apologizes for..."

"Apologize for..."

"Her rude behavior."

"My rude... Behavior?" Russia ended it as a question. What was wrong with the way she acted? She was just trying to make friends with the other nations and eventually force them to become one with Mother Russia so that they can play with her forever and ever and always! Russia saw nothing wrong with that!

The three Baltics seemed not to take notice to Russia's confusion, because small smiles grew on their faces.

The first to speak was the small Latvian girl, "W-we forgive you, R-r-russia. Man, I guess you are more than a stu- guh!" Estonia cut off Latvia's bluntness from exiting her mouth by covering it up and nodding to the siblings.

"It's fine, Russia, Ukraine," reassured Lithuania, "Ukraine, maybe you could give her some pointers on how to be more polite!"

This caused Ukraine's eyes to sparkle with joy and... Some other emotion Russia didn't want to decode.

She had no idea what was in store for her, but was scared to find out.

...

It was the next world meeting, when Russia walked in with glossed-over eyes and a large bag, which she dumped out onto the table.

In the bag was one present for each nation. The group stared in surprise at the mountain of colorful boxes on the table before turning to Russia for an explanation.

Blubbering, the Russian explained, "I am so, so, SO SORRY for being scary! I didn't mean it! I apologize!", before running off in tears.

All of the nations jaws were dropped by Russia's huge display of emotion, until they heard a loud voice.

"WICKED! The Commie got me a totally epic skateboard!" America whooped before slapping on her brand-new American flag knee-guards and elbow-guards on, adjusting her helmet, and wheeling around the room and using other nations as ramps.

As chaos resumed, Ukraine sat in his seat with a small smirk on his face, thinking, 'I'm so glad that Russia learnt how to behave!'

* * *

**World Meeting: Client**

One lone man approached a single door, where loud bangs and crashes could be heard.

Perplexed and slightly worried, he rapped his knuckles against the door. The sounds came to a collective stop, and the sound of hushed yelling and papers flipping out of control was heard.

A deep voice growled, "Sh! I think that's the person coming to observe us! Get off the table you two, no one wants that on their papers!"

Another voice chimed in, "Why not, Ve? It feels good and we love each other-"

"Yeah, potato-bitch!" someone interrupted, "we'll do whatever the fuck we want!"

The man heard a sigh, then a loud voice cackling, "Ja! Take it off! C'mon, West, you too!"

"NEIN! I will not do something that stupid!" The woman who's name was apparently Potato-Bitch West, replied.

"Do not be such a downer, Allemagne! Join us!" A sultry French accent purred.

"Sí, join us!" added a cheerful Spanish accent.

"NEIN!" was the reply by the angered German girl.

"Dudettes, be my backup against the Commie!" A happy American voice cheered. Multiple sighs could be heard throughout the room.

"Don't be a bloody git," an annoyed Englishwoman scolded the American, "we're not having a battle in the middle of the meeting room. You know, back in my day..."

"Capitalist-Pig, I am not a communism anymore, да?" a sweet Russian spoke over the reminiscent British accent.

"What did you call me, Commie?"

"Um, I agree with you-"

"I'll beat you with my peace prize!"

Pandemonium erupted within the meeting room. 'What did I get myself into? FU- I'm out!' Thought the outsider as he backed away from the door slowly. The door banged harshly.

The man who was outside stumbled over his feet and ran from the door, which by now was pounding and pushing forward with a great weight pressed against it.

Once he had run away, the door slammed open, many countries falling out of it. Italy and Romana still sat on the table, eating their pasta, while the bad touch trio were stripped to the bare minimum. America and Russia were still battling with whatever they could find as other nations placed bets. Germany peeked her head out of the door, frowning.

"Hm... That client was supposed to come today and observe us... Guess he didn't show up." She sighed, before noticing three sets of hands groping her.

"HEY, GET OFF OF ME!" She struggled to no avail, and the hands dragged her back inside, kicking and screaming.

* * *

**Kid!Germany and Teen!Bad Touch Trio: Freezer**

"Hey, Schwester! Can you get me a pack of beer from the freezer? And make sure their cold!" Prussia called to her younger sister. Said child sighed that of an adult.

"Prussia, why can't you get your own verdammt beer?" the German girl snapped.

Prussia's jaw dropped at her younger sibling's profane word. Germany clutched her mouth as if to try and shove the words back in her mouth.

Returning to normal, Prussia stood from her seat and towered over the miniature German.

"What did you say, Germany?" the Prussian hummed, staring her down. Normally, Germany wouldn't be scared of her dumb older sister, but the glare Prussia was sending her was intimidating, not to mention the large height difference.

Germany could only squeak in fear when Prussia's glare intensified.

The Prussian teenager spoke again, "Do you know what we do to little girls who talk back?" Now visibly shaking, the German child shook her head.

Cackling, Prussia turned to the window and whistled loudly. Confused, Germany tilted her head and looked out of the window to see what was going on.

They waited for five minutes, Prussia tapping her foot on the hardwood floors in impatience while Germany grew more anxious.

Suddenly, two bodies crashed through the window. Germany ducked down, Prussia simply stood where she was and grinned wider.

"Mon ami, is this what I think it is? Because if so, then I am very excited!" France asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Spain simply stared at Germany with a stupid smile on her face, nose bleeding a bit.

"SPAIN!" France yelled, smacking her upside the head.

Chuckling sheepishly, Spain wiped her nose of the blood and turned to her two older friends. "Do we have to, mis amigos?" she asked, "she is just a niña!"

Prussia and France nodded solemnly, Spain joining them after she realized that they were staying true to their word. Then, devilish grins lit all three faces as they looked back at the child, who gulped with fear.

The trio began to approach Germany slowly and methodically, backing her up against a wall.

...

"PRUSSIA! I WON'T SWEAR AGAIN, JUST LET ME OUT!" Germany screeched from inside the freezer.

Prussia, France, and Spain sat on the living room couch, sipping from a glass of beer, wine, and sangria respectively.

"Prussia," Spain began, "should we let her out now?" The Prussian snorted.

"No way, Spain! Germany's such a goody-two-shoes that I've never been able to punish her before! I've been waiting for this for centuries, so I'm gonna savor it!" The Bad Touch Trio shared a laugh, raising their glasses and yelling, "CHEERS!"

* * *

**A/N: Hi everybody! Miss me? This one was hard to write! Do ya see the pattern going on here? (random, request, random, request). This one's a random, so next is the request, which (hopefully) should go quicker.**

**So... Ukraine's emotionality is contagious... Or maybe Russians are just really easily influenced. But Germans are Germans wherever they go. *shot***

**Translations:**

**Andiamo= Let's Go**

**"Il cazzo? Che palle!"= "The fuck? That sucks!"**

**Das Auto= The Car**

**Да= Yes**

**Schwester= Sister**

**Verdammt= Damn**

**Mon Ami= My Friend**

**Mis Amigas= My (Girl) Friends**

**Niña= Little Girl**

**Make some more requests!**

**Review for Nordic Dance Party!**


	6. Chapter 6: Always with you Nordic-style!

**Disclaimer: I don't really own Hetalia. I own this cookie here... Oh, wait, I ate that cookie. Oops.**

* * *

**Sweden, Finland, Sea-Kun, Hanatamago Family: Bag**

Finland trudged in tiredly, dragging her feet on the floor and throwing her heavy red coat onto the couch. She kicked off her tall black boots while simultaneously pulling her long-cap off and adding it to the pile.

Sweden and Sealand sat on another chesterfield and watched as Finland literally threw herself onto the pile and passing out, lightly snoring after five minutes.

It was like this every Christmas; after all, it was tiring being Santa to the whole earth (and galaxy too, all thanks to America and Toni, those jerks).

The next part of the routine was Sweden standing up from her spot and walking to her 'husband' and picking her up, carrying her up the stairs slowly, and depositing her onto the bed. Then, Sweden tucked her in and walked back to the open door. And striding back to give her Finn a quick Christmas kiss on the forehead.

Afterwards, Sweden would usually bake cookies with Sealand and then go to sleep, but this was broken when she found the young Sealander examining a large cream-colored sack.

"Wh't are you lookin' at?" the tall woman grunted, catching Sealand's attention.

Sealand turned back with a large grin on her face, "I'm checking out Papa's Santa Sack, Mama!" This brought a small smirk to the Swede's face, as she approached the child.

"D' ya wanna kn'w wh't we v'kings d' with S'nta sacks?" At this, the Sealander girl nodded vigorously.

Sweden's grin widened as she crept to the blonde-haired child and scooped her up with the burlap bag, holding the squealing girl in her strong arms.

"Mama! Put me down!" Sealand giggled as the Swedish woman set her back down. Sweden then used the bag still in her hands to make a giant sock puppet.

"'t's a sack p'ppet," Sweden deadpanned, although the smile on her face showed the humor she intended. Sealand skipped over to it with a broad beam across her face.

"Hello Mr. Sack Puppet! How are you?" Sealand laughed, Sweden using both arms to maneuver the puppet's mouth.

"H'llo, Sea," Sweden grumbled in a low voice, "I'm good. H've you been a good g'rl th's year?" This brought lots of nodding, "I'm n't s' sure. I m'ght j'st have t' EAT YA!"

The giggling duo made their way to the couch, which they both fell across. They then proceeded to play with the sack, creating many different things with it, like a hair-bow or for sack racing.

And when the two had passed out, Sealand cuddled against Sweden's chest with the Swede using Santa's toy-bag as a pillow, Finland simply chuckled lightly to herself and covered them with a green and red quilt, just like every Christmas.

* * *

**Denmark and Sealand Adventures: Anteater**

"Denmark, what did you do?" Finland scolded the older woman, who laughed sheepishly while scratching the back of her head. Sweden came from behind the tall girl and suplexed her to the ground.

"Hey, what was that for, Svergie?" Denmark laughed, rubbing the red bump growing on her head from the slam to the floor.

The Swede growled, "Th't w's ST'PID, D'nm'rk!" The Dane winced. When Sweden's accent was rougher, it either meant she was really drunk or that she was really angry. And since Denmark had used up all the alcohol, she guessed that Sweden was VERY mad.

"I don't see the problem with-" She began before she was stopped by a smack on her head, right where the bump was forming.

"Don't be so stupid, Denmark," Norway grumbled in annoyance. Iceland continued to hit him repeatedly with a box of licorice.

"How did you think that this was actually a good idea, Denmark?" the Icelander questioned him.

The Danish girl chuckled, "Well, you see, it all started like this..."

...

"Hey, what are those, Denmark?" The bubbly young micro-nation asked while skipping towards the tall woman.

Said woman smiled widely and held up the six-pack of beverages, "Just a bit o' beer for on the go!" Sealand's eyes lit up as she thought, 'If I drink one of those adult drinks, then everyone will treat me like one! And then, I'll be recognized as a nation!'

Bouncing on her toes, she batted her eyelashes and asked, "Can I pretty- pretty- pretty- pretty- please- with- a- cherry- on- top, have one, PLEASE?"

Denmark's eye twitched at the sheer amount of 'pretty's' in that sentence. She knew she couldn't give the underaged child one of her beers, but having Sealand as an enemy was like having a cobra as a pet. Deadly. Sealand was a war-fort, for crying out loud! She was made to go up against Germany and was occupied by almost 300 members of the Royal Navy, after all!

"I think your parents and older brother would kill me if I gave you one of these," Sealand's face fell, "but, you can come see what I was going to do with them!" Denmark gave a hearty laugh, and playfully pushed the Sealandic girl forward.

The two girls raced each other to the living room of the Nordic home. Before they got there, Denmark turned to face Sealand with a serious look upon her face. This shocked the Sealander, as Denmark never looked like that.

"Now, Sealand, are you ready?" Said Sealander leant closer to the Dane, "because this will be... The COOLEST THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN!" And with that, she swung the door open.

"What is that," Sealand deadpanned as she stared at... Something.

"Don't you know?" Denmark gestured to it, to no avail, "It's an ANTEATER! Isn't it awesome? I got it from America!"

Sealand approached the animal and cautiously poked it. The anteater looked at her for a second before going back to licking the floor for insects.

The Sealandic girl glared at Denmark, unimpressed. She protested, "This anteater doesn't do anything."

Denmark cackled loudly, "That's what this is for!" She gestured to the pack of beers that she held in her hand, "I'm gonna have him/her drink it and see what happens!"

The cheerful demeanor returned to Sealand, who grinned deviously and skipped to her aunt-figure. The duo then proceeded to fill a bowl with the alcohol.

...

Suffice to say, the remaining four Nordics weren't quite happy when Denmark and Sealand arrived to dinner by smashing the door down, riding on top of a drunk anteater.

There was going to be one less Nordic the next day.

* * *

**Requested by: Alice Siegfried Eire (AKA: UsagiPyonPyon-Alice; OMG, your name changed! EDIT!)**

**NorIce: Men (oh god, generator...)**

"Hey Iceland," Norway began, turning to face the Icelander on the couch. Said girl looked at her sister, who stared at her with loving eyes. It was extremely unnerving to Iceland.

"Yes, Norge?" Iceland questioned, raising one of her pale brows at the Norwegian.

Norway locked stares with the violet eyes of her dear sister, "Do you like men?"

Said sister lit up like one of Finland's christmas trees. She coughed violently and averted her eyes from Norway.

"I... Um... Well... About that..." Iceland stuttered. Norway leant in closer, making Iceland turn a deeper shade of red.

Norway was now nose-to-nose with the Icelandic nation, who was now the color of cherries. All Iceland could do was blabber incoherently. When Norway spoke, her minty breath blew on Iceland. Her facial expression made it look like she was saying something important; it was too bad that Iceland couldn't hear what Norway was telling her. All that she could focus on was the Norwegain's sparkling blue eyes, which were a mirror into her true emotions when her face was impassive.

Iceland blinked, "What?" Norway chuckled and pulled away, standing up from her seat and walking to the door. Before exiting, Norway turned around and nonchalantly winked.

Once Norway and her entrancing eyes were gone, Iceland finally found the ability to snap out of her reverie. Her thought process speeding up quickly, Iceland's face darkened in embarrassment and anger.

"HEY! WHY ARE YOU BRINGING THAT UP WHEN WE'RE HAVING A MEETING?" Remembering the other people in the room, Iceland smiled uncomfortably to them, "maybe we should... Reschedule..." The others nodded and quickly departed.

Alone at last, Iceland sunk to the couch and placed her head in her hands, muttering, "That's the third time... This week..."

* * *

**Nordic 5: Taste**

"Everyone eat up," a joyful Finland cried as she set a large tray atop the dining table, "it's my special Karjalanpiirakka!"

Denmark snorted, "I'd rather eat something that's name doesn't take 2 years to say!" Sweden and Norway simultaneously smacked the Dane upside the head, giving her a large bump.

Iceland spoke up, "What food do you have, Denmark?" This brought the Danish girl back to her regular perky self. She quickly ran out of the dining room and returned two seconds later with a platter full of Danish cuisine.

"This, my friends, is real food! Such as this!" She dramatically raised one plate high above her head.

Norway popped out from behind her, "What's it called?" Denmark laughed heartily.

"It's named Stegt flæsk med persillesovs!" The room was silent for a minute until Sweden kicked Denmark in the face with the bottom of her heeled boot.

"Y'u idi't," Sweden growled, "th't's l'ng'r th'n F'nl'nd's." Denmark finally dropped her hands from above her head, forgetting about the plate, and effectively hitting herself on the head. This made the previously-formed bump grow larger.

"Besides," Norway interrupted the spat before it could go any farther, "Norwegian's make the best food. It's a scientific fact." Iceland nodded from behind her.

"Yes, it's almost as good as Icelandic food." This got the sisters into a disagreement, which mostly composed of Norway protesting "I raised you!" and Iceland arguing that she "wouldn't stoop so low as to let you win, Norge!"

During all of this, Denmark had passed out on the floor from excessive pain. This caused the Swedish woman to begin kicking her, much to Finland's horror.

As Finland attempted (unsuccessfully) to tear her 'wife's' shoe off of the unconscious Dane, no one noticed Sealand sneakily eating some of each nations food. The young micro-nation then hopped off her chair and ran to her room, Hanatamago barking at her feet.

Sealand then bellyflopped onto her bed, happily full. Giggling, she held up Hanatamago and exclaimed, "Everyone's food tasted awesome! Almost as good as Sealand's! Almost!" With that, Sealand began to play with her dog while the older nations downstairs still had no idea that they were currently fighting over nothing but air.

* * *

**A/N: Done! Again, go away fluff! We don't like you! You are not accepted here! (pst, I blame UsagiPyonPyon-Alice, just saying! *shot*)**

**So, since I've been shot in my own parentheses, I guess that means I need to talk about boring old stupid stuff. Well, too bad! I don't play by the rules! *double shot***

**Next week is Crack Week, because I can! Peoples, please send in your crackiest ideas/cannon characters/pairings, and I will Nyo-crackize them beyond belief! So, I will not post this week (October 8-14) so that I can take requests and write all of this crack! Just for you!**

**It won't be over-crack, like:**

**Spain turned around and realized that, yes, the polar bear was inside of her pants. France ate a rainbow as soon as Germany finished crying about her lost sandwich. Poor Germany; that sandwich was really Turkey.**

**Cause that crack is just plain stupid. Seriously. I think I lost, like, 10 brain cells just writing that. Dear god. Nope, never gonna happen.**

**Send in a character(s) and/or a category, then give me a random prompt. You can give me a one sentence prompt for this if you want, but you don't have to. For example:**

**Austria (Chibitalia): Toothbrush **

**Austria always made Italy clean the floor with a toothbrush, but never expected for it to be HER OWN brush.**

**Ok, this note is too long! Bai bai!**

**Arrivederci! **

**Translations:**

**Karjalanpiirakka= A thin rye crust with a filling of rice**

**Stegt Flæsk Med Persillesovs= Fried, uncured bacon with parsley sauce**

**(P.S: I think my A/N is longer than my stories! I blame Usagi- *triple shot* Sorry! I'm DONE!)**

**Review to make it up to UsagiPyonPyon-Alice for me. I should be able to mess with my first reviewer, though! Right? Well, it was hilarious. Yep. Totally worth it.**

**Arrivederci! Again!**


	7. Chapter 7: CRACK DAY 1

**Disclaimer: Me no own Hetalia. Me no own nothing. Me sad.**

**Requested by: UsagiPyonPyon-Alice**

**America and England : Scones**

**Summary: England was arguing with America about cooking, they decide to ends it with a Scone-baking competition. XD**

* * *

"My bloody cooking is AMAZING, you twit!" England screamed, thrusting a whisk in the American girl's direction. Said American laughed.

"Your cooking's bloody, alright, Iggy! Last time I ate some of that shit I bled from the mouth! Had to get my stomach pumped three ti-"

"I challenge you!" the Brit screeched, "I challenge you!" America raised an eyebrow at this... Odd display coming from her old mentor.

"Challange me to wh-"

"I challange you to a SCONE-OFF!"

America blinked, "... A what?"

England began cackling, a dark aura that rivaled Russia's surrounding her. America involuntarily shivered because, seriously, England was creepy as FUCK at that moment! Sometimes, America wishes that France would have taken custody of her. And then, right after getting her morning Starbucks, America goes and punches Russia. While the Russian is beating her to the floor, America finally wakes up and realizes that, fuck no was she going to be raised by Francey-pants rapist! Just look at how Canadia turned out!

* * *

So, that's how America ended up in England's kitchen wearing an apron that said 'Kiss the insanely-awesome-hot-sexy-heroine-cook'. She made it herself.

"Ok," France commentated, "you will each get one hour to make that disgusting pile of filth you call food-Eek!" The Frenchwoman was silenced by England throwing a butchers knife at her head, which she ducked just in time. Sadly, it clipped both Italy twin's curls, which ended in them hyperventilating while Germany and Spain carried them out. Poor them.

"Are you READY TO SEE SOME ACTION?" France called to the crowd of nations, who cheered in excitement. Oh yeah, and the whole world was watching too. It was like a really sucky version of Hunger Games.

"And... GO!" They were off like rockets; throwing ingredients into their bowls like psychopaths, not even measuring. Well, England was using the measuring cups to scoop more into her bowl.

They splashed water all over the counters and floors instead of in the bowls. Now it was harder to get their supplies because it was all slippery.

The two began to whisk away at top speed, splashing scone-mix everywhere. Some of the batter hit audience members and began fizzing; apparently, scone batter burns skin. Off. Poor audience.

Screams erupting left and right; England sighed. Ah, the sounds of cooking: fizzing and screams.

Finally, the scones were ready to pop into the oven. England skillfully maneuvered around any and all spills, and made it to her oven. She reached up to open the door, when...

BOOM!

England stood with her hand still ready to swing open the oven door, frozen with shock.

When she was able to process what happened, she groaned, "Not again!"

The audience was completely silent. This... Has happened before? What the heck was wrong with her! She was used to it!

America whooped, "Yeah! I'm ready for the cooker! Raise it!" She grinned her usual smile and ran towards her oven; too bad her ninja skills weren't as good as Japan's, though, because she slipped on a small puddle of water and fell, spilling the deadly concoction all over herself.

"OMIGOD-I-THINK-I'M-DYING-MY-EYES-ARE-ON-FIRE-AND-I-SMELL-BURNING-FLESH-SOMEONE-HELP-ME!"

The nations groaned and left angrily, realizing that the whole contest was a waste of time. No duh. Japan snapped a picture of the smoke-covered England standing in front of a burning wall and America screaming in pain on the ground, before disappearing in all of her ninja glory.

France and America's invisible sister, Cambodia or some other name like that, were the only onlookers remaining, as all of the others had either left or were carted away by paramedics.

The other America turned to her Maman, and deadpanned, "We knew this would happen, oui?"

France nodded solemnly, "Oui. Should we help them or let them suffer for their insolence?" There was a glint of something in the other's eyes.

The Canuck chuckled devilishly, "Let them suffer for a while. A long while." France shook violently as her former charge laughed wickedly, reminiscent of a certain Brit.

"HEY!" America yelled, "THAT'S OUR THING! GET YOUR OWN!"

"YEAH!" England chimed in, "THAT'S COPYRIGHT YA BLOODY FROG!" France gave the British woman a quizzical glance.

"Angleterre, how much liquor did you consume before this?" England grinned drunkenly at the Frenchwoman, who pushed a resistant Caribbean (or something like that) behind her.

Giggling, England pulled out a bottle of whiskey, which she began to chug, "I only had two glasses... Maybe ten... I swear to drunk I'm not God!" France face-palmed, while Congo (I think) interrogated her sister.

"America, did you get England drunk so that you could win?" America laughed.

"Well, DUH! Iggy's a total lightweight; I thought it would help! Plus, she's a funny drunk!"

In the background England sobbed, "I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME, PRINCESS FAIRY! WHY'D YOU LEAVE!" France stood completely still as the Englishwoman stroked her face to hush her.

"Now Canadadia, I know you are totally passive-aggressive, but can you help me? I'm sort of dying here!" America cried, spazzing out on the ground.

"Oh? Did you say something? I didn't hear anything," Canada (yes!) jeered in her usual quiet tone. Then, she walked away from her twin, who had begun to drag herself across the floor... Straight into the kitchen counter.

"AH! OH-GOD-MY-NOSE-IS-BROKEN-SOMEONE-HELP-ME!" America rolled around on the floor before hitting her head yet again and passing out.

England was now telling France all of the reasons why 'France is a horrible person'.

"Also... Also... Also... She also is always trying to f... To fee... Feel me up. And I don't like it! Only sometimes... Only sometimes... But shhhhhhh," England smushed the Frenchwoman's face with both hands, "don't tell France I told you. And also-"

"Screw it all," France interrupted, taking the beer bottle England had acquired and smashing it against her head, successfully knocking her out. Just like Germany.

France then decided to troll with the two, so she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from her brassiere and began writing. Because everyone keeps writing materials in their bras. Sick bastard.

"My bloody head... I feel like killing someone... France comes to mind..." England covered her eyes with her hands, as if trying to blanket the massive hangover she had gotten.

"Hey Iggy," America groaned from her spot on the floor, "why do I feel like jumping off a cliff? And killing Russia?"

"I'm not sure about the first one, but for the second one, you always want to kill Russia."

"Oh, ok," America moaned, and turned around to be met with the sensation of something tickling her face.

"WHAT IS THIS- oh, it's paper."

"SHUT UP BEFORE I KILL YOU INSTEAD OF FRANCE! My head is dying!" England blubbered to herself, holding her head as she walked back and forth.

"It says: Dear Angleterre and Amerique, 'ow are you two? Sorry zat you 'ave fainted, but I zought zat you would like to know 'hoo w-"

"AMERICA!" England growled, "your fake accent is horrid! Speak normally, git." The American rolled her eyes, but restarted anyways.

"Geez Iggy, so harsh," America whined as England whispered not to call her Iggy, "Dear Angleterre and Amerique, how are you two? Sorry that you have fainted, but I thought that you would like to know who won. It was... The sexy moi?"

"That Perverted-Bitch!" England hissed while standing up quickly, albeit shakily, and striding to the door.

"You sounded like Romana there," America chuckled, until she saw her mother-figure grab the large butchers knife from its spot in the wall, "h-hey, where ya going?"

England turned around with a Russian smile on her face, "To kill France. Ok, BYE!" And then she skipped outside, humming a cheerful tune about murder and blood.

America stared the door down for a moment before shrugging and lifting herself slowly off of the floor, "Well, might as well go and bother Russia!"

The American took one step before said Russian tackled her to the ground and began choking her with the ends of Russia's scarf.

"H-how did you kn-ow?" America wheezed out, still being choked by Russia.

"Well," Russia giggled softly to herself, "I am Mother Russia, and Mother Russia knows all! I also may or may not have taken ninja lessons from Japan..." Then she slammed America's face onto the hardwood floor.

"...DAMN YOU, JAPAN!"

Italy and Germany turned around as their petite friend let out a squeak of a sneeze. And another. And another.

"AW, that was so CUTE!" Italy cooed, making Japan's cheeks flush in embarrassment. Germany let out a short cough that almost sounded like, "Japan is really adorable," but couldn't have been because, seriously, it's Germany we're talking about.

Japan looked around her and sighed. Her ninja senses were tingling. And also, shut up France. Perv.

Speaking of France, England broke down the door to the Frenchwoman's house, "Hello France! Remember m- what the bloody- oh god! That... That's disgusting!" And it was there that England decided that maybe she should just ignore insults about her cooking. And also that she should never let America take her for a drink because it will always be a trap. And also that on the way home she would need to pick up some brain bleach from the store. Yeah, that sounds about right. Brain bleach. Wash away the pain.

Thus ends a normal day in the lives of a nation.

* * *

**A/N: Yay! My first ever CRACK-fic! Woop woop! How was it? Cracky enough for ya? **

**Sorry it came a day late; I didn't get enough for crack-week! Thank you UsagiPyonPyon-Alice for being the only one to request stuff! The rest of you need to step up your game!**

**Translations:**

**Oui= Yes**

**Angleterre= England**

**Amerique= America**

**Review for Flying Mint Bunny! Ya know you wanna! Am I right? Am I... Right?**


	8. Chapter 8: CRACK DAY 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Never will own it. Just face the facts: My heart will never be filled with Hetalia-owning-ness. Thus I cry. Sob. Sob. Thank you. **

**Requested by: UsagiPyonPyon-Alice**

**Nordic 5 : Beautiful**

**Summary: Nordic-5 was talking about their appearance. (Make Norway a bit OOC here. *shot*) **

* * *

"Friends, Family, girl that we all secretly hate," Norway then coughed, "DENMARK!"

"Hey!" the Dane cried, insulted.

"Oh my goodness, I have the worst cold," the Norwegian girl droned in monotone before coughing again, "NO ONE LIKES YOU!"

Iceland rolled her eyes at the stupidity of the situation, "What were you going to say?"

"Oh yeah!" Norway giggled; Sweden felt her eye twitch at this, "I was just going to tell you how beautiful I am today!"

The other Nordics stared at the Norwegian before bursting into laughter. Norway's face grew cherry-red.

"What? What is it?" Norway cried, confused. The other Nordics looked at her for a minute before bursting into laughter again.

"Oh no, you ARE the MOST beautiful Nordic," Finland chuckled. Norway beamed with joy at this before she heard Sweden cough, "Not," rather loudly.

The Norwegian woman screeched in anger, "What do you mean I'm not the most beautiful Nordic! This is mutiny! MUTINY!" Everyone became quiet so that they could listen to the awesome echo.

_Mutiny..._

_ Mutiny..._

_ Mutiny..._

"Why are you so worried about your looks, Norgie? You're acting really weird, or is it just me?" Denmark shouted out.

Sweden chuckled, "What the hell are you talking about, Den? You're crazy!" The other Nordics laughed along with her while Denmark simply stared back at them. Today was the day they decided to go crazy. Just great. Jerks.

"Like, I'm totally more cute than you!" Finland argued, glaring at Norway, who in turn glared at Denmark. Because everyone secretly hates Denmark.

"Fuck you guys!" Denmark growled while flipping them the birdie and storming off. But no one really cared. Well, except for... No, never mind.

"No one can beat my smokin' hot Icelandic bod!" Iceland said while sensually posing. Finland smacked her upside the head.

"Shut UP!"

To keep the hyperactive and egocentric Norwegian off her back, Sweden handed her a giant mirror, which she became entranced with.

"Omigosh, you look so beautiful; if you weren't me, I would totally tap that!" Norway gushed. Sweden glared at the blonde in disgust while Iceland was in the corner puking her guts out.

"BLEH! BLEH!"

Sealand popped out of nowhere; when she went to get more anime from Japan, the woman had given her ninja lessons. Dammit, Japan.

On the other side of the world were three ultra-super-moe-power sneezes. D'aw, so cute!

"Sorry Norway, but everyone knows that Sealand-desu has the sexiest body alive! Don't try to deny it, biyotch, cause you know it's true!" The whole group looked Sealand over for a minute before nodding in agreement.

"Yes."

"Quite sexy."

"If she didn't have the appearance of a twelve year old girl, I'd totally tap that!"

As always, Sealand was the unanimous winner of the Nordic nation beauty contest. Even though she wasn't a Nordic. Or a nation. And there was no contest. So basically, all the Nordics just wanted to tap that. Well, all but Denmark, who was currently beating up Neatherlands and Belgium for slipping marijuana into their holiday brownies; those sick bastards. All that matters is that in the end, they were a big happy family. But they all still secretly hate Denmark.

"GO TO HELL!"

* * *

**A/N: Ok, so I added more crack! And I may or may not e flagged for the major pedophilia going down here, but... You know, nothing happened! Plus, Sea-Chan ain't really 12; she's like, 47 in human years. But I guess compared to Norway's however many years... My brain hurts. Just, it's not illegal. I think. Shut up brain, your just as annoying as Denmark! *shot for overused joke***

**Need more reviews! More requests! Please! **

**Review so that I know I'm not the only one out here! Please? It's dark and I'm scared and I heard something that sounded eerily like 'Kolkohoz'!**

**GO AWAY!**


	9. Chapter 9: CRACK DAY 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Still. But I'm working on it. Just kidding. That would take time and effort, both of which are foreign concepts to me.**

**Requested by: No one, because only dear sweet UsagiPyonPyon-Alice and 'Guest' gave me suggestions! Thanks for all of the follows and faves though, still love ya! But if you want funny crack, you gotta review! I can probably still make your requests this crack week, but please, REVIEW! Before I bite your heads off like the angry T-Rex I am. Rawr.**

* * *

**Crack Pairing: FinlandxLitchenstein **

**Horrified Observer: Switzerland, who can't sleep for weeks**

**Oh god... I'm adding more people, just so ya know!**

"Finny? Are you ok?" The child-like boy Liechtenstein skipped merrily up to Finland after a meeting. Said Finn smiled gently and nodded, not noticing the nickname given to her or the perverse smirk lighting the Liechtensteiner's face.

Suddenly, the blonde-haired boy grabbed Finlands cheeks and pulled her into a passionate lip lock... Just as Switzerland was walking around the corner. Sadly, Switzy was carrying a cup of coffee, which she chose to spill down her front as she froze at the sight in front of her.

'Oh. My. Fucking. Fuck. My. Holy. I. What? I don't? How? Why?' The Swiss girl's mind screamed. The image was forever burnt in her mind. Forever.

Sweden entered next to Switzerland and burst into tears as she ran away, screaming something about "buying cats to keep her company" and "sending Finland straight to hell" and other shit. Because she can.

Sealand popped in behind Switzy and gasped before fangirlling, "OMG, totally did not see that coming!"

"Go back to England!" Switzerland yelled in frustration, angering the Sealander, who muttered something about "seeing Sea in her nightmares" and other shit like that. Man, that family has a bad habit. Really.

Once the two pulled apart, Liechtenstein grinned, "So, how was that?" before getting totally bitch-slapped. Like, for reals, yo.

"I feel so violated!" The Finnish girl cried, running of to apologize to her wife and to make her daughter stop watching those soaps with America! Only grannies with a million cats and old melted candies in their purse watch those! Like Sweden if they ever got divorced!

"So..." Liechtenstein drawled, "wanna make out?"

Later that night...

"Still haunting me... Save me... Please!"

* * *

**Crack Pairing: Poland x Italy (seems legit)**

**Horrified Observer: Estonia, who blows up the world (seems legit *shot*)**

"Mmmmm... I love this, Pola- Ah! Ah! Ah!"

"Are you ok? Italy? Did that hurt?"

"No, I'm fine... Just got a little stuck's all!"

Estonia listened from outside the door, her face gradually growing redder and redder.

"Ve, that's much better! See, that feels good, right? Nice and gentle... There you go! Up, down, up, down..."

The Estonian woman backed away slowly from the door and ran to her room, where she slammed the door shut. She had been training for this moment for centuries, and now it was time. She headed methodically to her large computer screen, where she slipped her headphones on over her ear.

Before speaking she adjusted the microphone, then looked solemnly at the screen, "I always feared that this day would come... You know, Poland and Italy... Well, sadly, that day had to be today! I was going to go see the new Justin Bieber concert! Oh wait... Look at that, I was right! It really IS Armageddon! That obliterate button's not gonna push itself!" And she reached her hand towards the button in slow-mo.

With Poland and Italy, they had finally finished eating their second batch of homemade pasta. It was a good thing that Poland got Italy's curl untangled from her fork carefully, or something bad could have happened! Am I right? Am I?

After they sorted out the Italian girl's hair, Italy gave Polska a lesson on making homemade noodles and how to turn the handle; not roughly, but gently up and down.

Oh yeah, and then the world blew up. But seriously, Bieber? Really Estonia? Other-America is rubbing off on you. And that's why Italy and Poland should never date. Ever.

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully you guys will REVIEW and give me some ideas for crack week! If ya want it, give me something to work with, or else I'll be forced to spew out this crap-sterpiece!**

**RE. VIEW. NOW.**


	10. Chapter 10: CRACK DAY 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. It own don't I. Don't own it I. Own it I don't. It I don't own. Get the point?**

**Requested by: Guest (don't know your name, sorry!)**

**China and France: Mother Hen**

**Summary: :Ummm maybe mother hen China being super over protective over a sibling**

**(really get an older sibling to beat up France/perverts)**

* * *

China smiled at her younger sibling as she patted the Japanese girl's head playfully. Japan muttered something about taking responsibility, but China blew it off as kids being kids.

"Ok Japan, now I'm going to go inside of the store and get the ingredients needed for our dinner. Stay in the basket and be safe!" And with that, China had left.

Japan blinked at the speed the woman had disappeared at and thought to herself, 'That quick-paced movement and stealthiness could be effective in battle! I might have to use that! I'll call it... Ninjutsu! And people who do it will be Ninjas!"

From heaven, Kami yelled, "DAMMIT, JAPAN!" Japan looked around herself, but only found the usual fairies and other assorted magical creatures.

"Why am I in a basket?" Japan asked herself, "and why am I so small? Also, why is this weird lady calling me her sister when we just met a century ago in a forest of bamboo? Desperate much?"

Suddenly, two pairs of hands snatched her from behind and lifted her from her seat. She cried in terror and called China's name.

* * *

From within the store, China felt a presence... A perverted presence. Her sister senses were tingling, and she sprung into action.

She kicked through the window and hit France square in the cheek. The Frenchwoman fell to the ground in slow motion, holding her face in pain.

"What was that for, China?" the woman cried. The other scoffed indigently.

"Obviously," China exclaimed, "I'm protecting my siste-"

"I'm not your sister," Japan deadpanned. China's jaw dropped as France began to chuckle in the background.

"But I raised you-"

"You found me in the woods."

"I cared for y-"

"We aren't related."

"But little sist-"

"You are China, where the sun sets-"

"SHUT IT-"

"And I am Japan, where the sun ris-"

"That's it!" the Chinese woman cried, "no isolation for a whole month!"

Japan stared at her for a minute, then stuck out her tongue, "You don't have jurisdiction over me. And you look like a man."

China sputtered, France laughed, France got a black eye to go with her bruised cheek. And China was the most overprotective sister ever. Even if she wasn't really a sister. She just liked to beat up France.

"WHY DOES THE WORLD HATE ME?" France sobbed to the sky.

"Well," England twirled a lock of hair on her finger, "the first reason is-"

"THAT'S IT!" And yet another fight began that China tried to break up by offering some snacks, which of course no one took. Especially not Japan. She had gone to talk to Spain.

Wait...

"JAPAN!" People were gonna be limping today.

* * *

**A/N: This felt rushed, but not fully cracky! But all my stuff is crack! So... Yeah.**

** Woo hoo! I got a new Genderbender story that all of you Genderbent lovers will enjoy! Look on my page for Seme Swap, updates every Sunday! And yes, this is shameless advertising!**

**Review! Canadia wants you to! Wait, who?**


	11. Chapter 11: CRACK DAY 5

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, you all would be mentally scarred for life... Like, more than you already are by this story...**

**Requested by: UsagiPyonPyon-Alice (You're sorta awesome, you know that?)**

**Summary: Moar CRACK! How about NorwayxGermany? That sounds CRACK-ING!**

**But you can choose the theme.. :)**

**So I did. Theme: Undershirt (sometimes I hate you, random word generator...)**

* * *

"Hey Germany," Italy cried, "wanna get some PAAAAAAASSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAA-"

"Nein."

"Bu-"

"Nein."

"Pl-"

'MEIN GOTT!' Both nations jumped at the sound of Germany's phone ringing.

"Dammit, Prussia..." Germany growled, mad that her sister had changed her ringtone AGAIN. She picked up the phone, "WAS?"

"Um, Germany?" A soft voice called over the phone. Germany paled significantly, immediately recognizing the voice of her lover, "did you see my undershirt from that one time last week... You know?" Cue over-the-phone eyebrow waggle.

"WHO IS THAT GERMANY?" Italy screamed right into Germany's ear, causing her to yelp in pain.

"NO ONE!"

"SO I'M NO ONE TO YOU!" Norway cried over the phone, "THEN MAYBE WE SHOULD BREAK UP!"

Frantic, Germany cried over the phone, "I'M SOR-"

"KEEP THE DAMN UNDERSHIRT, YOU BITCH! I'M GOING BACK TO LITUANIA!" Norway screamed in reply, losing her cool facade. Why? Because shut up.

Lithuania popped from behind Norway and whispered, "We never dated..."

Norway turned around, "DON'T DENY YOUR TRUE FEELINGS!"

Over the phone was Germany, "WHY ARE YOU YELLING?"

Norway responded, "WHY ARE **YOU** YELLING?"

Lithuania and Italy sweat dropped at the couples bickering. They only yelled like that when they were high or drunk.

Italy cleared her throat, "Germany, are you high?"

"Or drunk?" Lithuania asked Norway.

Both blondes scoffed at their respective brunette, "HELL TO THE NAH, BIYOTCH! We too cool to do that! We be all up in this hood, yo!"

Italy and Lithuania crept away slowly as Germany and Norway continued their spiked-brownie induced argument. Damn you Canadadia.

"Achoo!" Upper-America sneezed.

Back to our lovers.

"I'm so sorry, Norway... I overreacted. Please take me back."

Norway screamed, "I STILL LOVE YOU, MY GERMAN SCHNITZEL!"

Germany winced at the loud sound, "Why are you still yelling?"

Norway though about it for a minute, "I DON'T KNOW!"

But it was all good, because Germany and Norway were back together. That was good, because their illegitimate child would have been torn if they had broken up! BTW, their kid was Cameroon. Frick yeah it was!

"That's not true," Cameroon stated.

"Quiet child!" Germany and Norway screamed in unison at the grown man. Rolling his eyes, Cameroon kicked his soccer ball away and went back into the room from whence he came.

After all this time, Italy and Lithuania came out of the closet. Out of the closet. Hehe. Pun intended.

This is why Japan and China have a fear of Westerners. They're fucking creepy. The end.

* * *

**A/N: And this is why I should never be a druggie. Fo shizzle. Also, I'll never be a gangster either. Dammit.**

** So this started as a GermanyxNorway story and ended as a GermanyxNorway with Cameroon as their child and ItalyxLithuania. By the way Norway tops in their relationship, just saying.**

**Ok, I'm gonna go sniff air now. Because oxygen is the only drug I do! *shot for stupidity***

**Review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Chibi Finale?

**Chibitalia: Burglar**

Chibitalia was sitting in her bedroom, counting pasta bowls in her head to get herself to fall asleep, when she heard a loud crash downstairs.

Knowing that Miss. Austria and HRE were both surprisingly heavy sleepers, Italy decided to investigate herself.

She grabbed a wooden spoon from her dresser and held it to herself like a sword. With any luck, it would just be a cat outside or something else like that. But, if it was a burglar...

Did she remember to lock the doors that night; she couldn't remember. But, she knew that Holy Roman Empire (and to a lesser extent, the aristocratic bitch) were small and weak, no matter how much they protested it. Italy decided that she would take it upon herself to protect them.

Another loud crash resonated throughout the house; Chibitalia flinched slightly. The cold breeze and darkness that surrounded her gave off an eerie air that Italy decided that she didn't like. At all.

Tightening her grip on her wooden weapon, the Italian child continued her descent downstairs, until she made it to the source of the noises: the kitchen. Her precious kitchen was being ransacked, and she could only listen.

No. Wait. She could do more than listen; Italy could take action and drive away this thief so that he or she wouldn't be able to get their hands on Holy Roma! Or Austria...

She waited a beat, then slammed the kitchen door open, racing to the dark figure and beginning to whack him with her large utensil.

Said figure cried out in shock and pain, their voice sounding oddly familiar.

Still beating the man with her spoon, she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out her candle and stick and lit it, getting a good look at who she was hitting.

Dark brown hair tied back by a dark ribbon, soft olive skin, bright green eyes filled with innuendos, and a smirk that showed off all of his teeth and his hidden plans for yuri-

"Signore Hungary!" Italy cried out, clutching his shirt, "I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was you and I was just trying to protect Holy Roma and to a lesser extent, Austria, and I though you were a burglar, so I tried to beat your ass and then-"

Hungary interrupted the young girl's run-on sentence, "I'm fine; you did a good job of protecting them, Italy. But just remember, I'm still here to protect them as well. Ok?" The Italian nodded quickly, a small but proud smile on her face. Hungary continued, "Now, get to bed! Don't want to be late for your siesta tomorrow!"

Italy nodded and skipped back up to her own room, swinging her spoon around like a baton as she hummed a song to herself.

Hungary chuckled fondly before remembering why he had come downstairs in the first place.

"That's right; Switzy and Austria are rooming together tonight! Must. find. camera." Ah Hungary, you never change!

* * *

**Chibiromana: Green**

Romana loved the color green. On her flag it was displayed proudly along with the red and white on it. Her younger sister's favorite color was red, and it made sense that she would love the opposite spectrum of their national colors.

So when Spain asked her why she had so much green in her wardrobe, Romana turned bright red, the same color her dear sorellina had painted her bedroom walls with, and turned back to her closet to continue sorting her green shirts, green pants, green skirts, green dresses, and green headbands.

Boss Spain had let the matter go for a little while, but soon became curious again when he realized that although her Chibi charge had so much green in her room, she would always wear red uniform. Spain discovered that it was the same thing, but flipped, for Chibitalia (of course this got her a pot to the head when Italy found her peeping, but it was for a worthy cause). So, Spain took it upon herself to ask about this.

"WEAR MORE GREEN!" The cheerful Spaniard exclaimed, spinning Romana in quick circles. This lead to a very dizzy, very pissed Italian. Said Italian took it upon herself to headbutt Spain in the stomach, effectively knocking the wind out of the woman.

Regaining her breath, Spain gave South Italy a pleading stare. The child pouted with puffed out, dark red cheeks, "Hell no, Tomato-Bitch! Don't tell me what the fuck to do!"

"But why don't you wear your favorite color, Ro~Ma~Na~?" Spain asked, tapping the young girl's nose each time.

"Don't talk like that! It's weird..." Chibiromana trailed off awkwardly, soon regaining her angered tone, "I just don't, ok? None of your business!" She then huffed and crossed her arms, turning away from her Boss.

Spain pouted to herself for a minute, then continued whining to her young charge, "But why, mi tomate? Why? Porqueeeeeeeee-"

"Shut the fuck up! Fine, I'll tell you! Goddamn nosy bitch..." Romana grumbled to herself while an oblivious Spaniard grinned with success.

Romans caught Spain's smirk and yelled, "Stop smiling, dammit!" This got Spain's attention, "now, as you know, my favorite color is green while Veneciana's is red," Spain nodded in acknowledgement; she did previously know this information, "w-well... wewearourfavoritecolorstobec losertoeachother!" She spoke quickly and hurriedly, her face turning a deeper shade of red as she spoke more.

Spain tilted her head in confusion at what the Italian child had said, "What?"

Romana sighed deeply, then repeated what she had said before slower, "We-wear-our-favorite-colors-to-be-closer-to-each-other!"

Spain smiled at the small girl and quickly picked her up, much to Romana's protest, and held the child to her chest for a hug. Said girl tried in vain to escape the Spaniard woman's vice grip, but her efforts did not even make Spain bat an eyelash.

Instead, Romana found her cheek being rubbed against Spain's, who was cooing incoherently about, "Adorable backstories!" and "Italians are as cute as my turtles!" and other crap like that.

And just like that, Chibiromana decided never to talk about the color green again. Well, that and the fact that headbutting Spain's stomach was much more fun than it should be.

* * *

**Chibirisu: Rose**

A young girl with two unruly, bunny-esque pigtails sat perfectly still in the tall grass. And that was saying something, as this child always seemed to be in motion; if not running away from her devillish older sisters, she was chasing down prey in the densly forested area she called home. Or, of course, running away from France and her grabby hands.

That was why, for France to see the toddler-sized girl staring thoughtfully at the thick rosebushes in front of herself without once fidgeting uncomfortably from lack of movement was, frankly, unnerving.

'She must be planning something,' the Frenchgirl thought, 'that petite lapin is both bark and bite. She is plotting against me," The teenager watched as England began to touch the flower's soft petals, 'she is waiting for the right moment to strike. See her there," England seemed to relax visibly at the sweet scent of the roses around herself, 'that adorable smile hides her TRUE EVIL!'

"JUST GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY!" France finally had it with what she believed to be Chibirisu's stalling; if she wanted to fight, she should just outright do it.

Chibirisu jumped about a foot in the air, 'like a lapin,' France noted, and looked around in a panicked frenzy until her eyes settled on France.

"Oh," her large bottle-green eyes narrowed, "it's the Frog."

France dramatically clutched her chest in mock hurt, "You wound me so, Angleterre! I am struck by grief!"

England tightened her ponytails as her glare intensified. She muttered under her breath, "If you don't leave soon, I'll strike you with my arrow..."

"What was that, mon cher?" France acted innocent, although if the wide smirk on her face meant anything, then France was simply trying to get a rise out of the English girl. Which probably would have worked any other time. But, surrounded by the flowers that she had always been explicabely drawn to since birth, England was unable to utter more than a few cuss words at the beautiful blonde girl.

Wait... Beautiful? These flowers were making her too soft! She couldn't dare to complement that... That... Egotistical, self-centered, bragging frog-faced narcissist! Nope, never...

"Roses would look pretty in your hair!" Dammit.

France tilted her head to the side in confusion at the statement, "Roses?"

England smiled, her body already on autopilot as she recalled with a doting tenderness her beloved blooms.

"Yes, France. Roses! Their graceful beauty makes anything seem elegant; the serenity of their soft smell washing over you as their bright color is stark in comparison to other flowers. It's petals beautifully coiffed and gentle enough to flutter to the ground if you pull hard enough. They're strong enough to stay where they wish, though. Roses truly are beautiful flowers, right France?"

England ended her monologue and turned to face the Frenchgirl, who she soon realized was simply staring at her in shock. She waved a hand in front of the taller girl's face and called her name a few times.

Once the English child had gotten France's attention, France had grown a smile on her face and began a quick waltz around the rosebushes, spinning and laughing until the duo felt they could not move another muscle.

They fell to sleep there, under the rosebushes, and France thought that maybe, just maybe, she could see the allure of roses. She reached her hand up and quickly snagged two roses from the bunch. She placed one in her own hair and the other in Chibirisu's pigtail. France smiled and whispered, "Roses look pretty in your hair too," before falling to sleep among the flowers.

* * *

**Chibimerica: War**

War was a fickle thing to America. Of course, she was only a young girl, so what was the appeal of battling someone to the death with your sword? Oh yeah, this was America we're talking about, though.

"I'll be the strongest nation alive! Just like Iggy and Francey-Pants! And I'll beat all of those other people, too!" America laughed as she used her fork as a sword, slashing at some of her invisible opponents.

Canada sighed; this was America, after all. She was always trying to battle all of the big and scary nations, luckily they never took her seriously. Wherever America went, she would leave a giant mess for her older sister, Canada, to clean up. Canada would never mind helping her sibling, but she still felt like the hyperactive colony needed to get a reality check about real suffering.

"America," Canada hummed in her soft voice, calling the younger's attention, "I have to tell you a story told to me by my Maman France." The American girl grinned and sat at the table her sister was currently at. She swiped a pancake from the latter's plate as the Canadian began her tale about hardships and death and loss.

As the story progressed, the youthful glimmer in the American's cerulean eyes became more and more dull, and Canada wondered for a split second if this was too much for her innocent little sister. But she trudged on, knowing that her sibling needed to know about the real world.

Finally finished, Canada leant back in her chair and asked, "Do you understand now why war is so bad?" America nodded in reply. Then, a glint of something passed her eyes; Canada didn't know what the glint was yet, but she had a feeling that it would end up screwing her over more than once. It just gave her that feeling. The feeling that she just made the biggest mistake of the century.

"Well then, in times of crisis, those people will need someone to protect them from those who are evil! And I'm just the HEROINE to do it!" America laughed victoriously as Canada facepalmed.

And this is why everyone ignores Canada.

* * *

**Chibippon: Branch**

Japan was a small island surrounded by only sea. So, suffice to say, she didn't have a lot of knowledge with defense. People usually wouldn't risk attempting to get to her place during monsoon season, which helped her to avoid any idiots who wanted to invade her.

So, when she saw the large and grandiose Chinese ships land on her shore, she was more than a little caught off guard.

Japan panicked for a split second before remembering her advantage; this was her land, the land that she knew more than anything else. And this was the same land that she was going to protect. She quickly got to work on her plan.

China walked down dirt roads with little interest of what was around him; nothing could possibly be as good as her mainland. She was only on this small piece of soil because her dragon-boss had breathed fire when she refused.

"Dumb dragon," she muttered Chinese curse words under her breath at the thought of her annoying boss. This meant that her mind was too preoccupied to see the long vine in front of her.

China tripped over it, setting off a domino-effect. The vine snapped and dropped down a barrage of rotted berries atop her, covering her in juice. Then, fruit flies were released from a makeshift container, and sped towards the Chinese girl. Sensing the danger, China began to run away. Too bad she missed the inconspicuous twig in her path, which released a barrage of bamboo branches to her head.

Her last thought before she blacked out was, 'Maybe this place isn't as boring as I thought it was.'

After that, Chibippon was left with the job of dragging the unconscious teen onto her bamboo-makeshift boat and setting her adrift.

Yes, Japan was a small island. A small island that made a better friend than an enemy.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about my 2 week long absence! It's just been so empty here in this story! I got no more requests and if no one else has anything they want to see, I'm gonna call this complete and start a new story!**

** This actually wasn't planned to be a Chibi chapter; it just turned out like that! Also, Chibi Japan doesn't have a name! What is this? So, I took the liberty of naming her Chibippon! Because I am awesome. Kesese! And the Chibi names make it easier to write!**

** Thanks for following me this far, everyone! I love you all! Free Chibis for all!**

**Translations:**

**Signore= Mister**

**Lapin= Rabbit**

**Angleterre= England**

**Mon Cher= My Dear**

**Maman= Mom**

**Review for more chapters or not! It's all good! I'm chill... REVIEW, GODD-*shot* wow, that hasn't happened in a while! I sorta missed these Switzy bullets piercing my skin!**

**Ciao!**


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